


Bend & Break

by KingIcarus



Category: Bleach
Genre: AU-ish?, Alcohol, Established Relationship, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Mental Instability, More tags to be added, Past Abuse, Romance, Trans Male Character, Vaginal Sex, boy you can really tell im just adding tags as i go, but the AU is everyone's just chillin, dont ask me about timeline, first fanfic in 7 years gang gang, i couldnt tell you, ichigo's sick of it, set post-aizen, title will probably change
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-05-07
Updated: 2020-08-01
Packaged: 2021-03-03 02:26:47
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 26,116
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24057448
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KingIcarus/pseuds/KingIcarus
Summary: The Foothold: The Soul Society's best kept secret, and perhaps their only secret that doesn't cause a near apocalypse scenario when revealed. But what is it? Well, it's a top-secret training facility, reserved for the advancement of only the best soul reapers with... Yeah, no, it's a holiday home. It's definitely a holiday home. But the housekeeper has a sweet collection of video games, so maybe that's a job perk?OC-centric but from Ichigo's POV. Included Inchigo x OC tag for one teensy bit of smut but relationship shifts eventually.
Relationships: Kurosaki Ichigo/Original Male Character(s), Zaraki Kenpachi/Original Male Character(s)
Kudos: 2





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Ever been so mind-numbingly bored you dive back into your oldest fandom and brush off the keyboard? Yeah, that's where this came from. I'm not sure if my writing's still up to scratch so bear with me while I grease the cogs. Any feedback is more than welcomed!
> 
> Ichigo's just... confused, man.

The warm air was still. Not even a breeze stirred within the Seireitei. No clacking alarms, no padding of feet thundering down the alleyways, no disturbances of any kind. Just pure serenity.

Substitute Soul Reaper Ichigo Kurosaki, however, was not serene in the slightest. His head swam with questions, none of which had been answered in any meaningful way. Instead of relaxing at home during the summer break at school, perhaps doing what every other teenager on the planet was doing right now, he was here.

In the Seireitei.

With his shihakusho sticking to his back disgustingly.

Waiting to be dispatched through the senkaimon.

Ikkaku and Yumichika were there too, which only raised more questions. The three of them stood by the far wall, waiting in the sweltering sunshine for the guards to usher them through the unfathomably large gates. Yumichika had craftily taken the only spot graced by an overhang of thick branches, and leaned against the white wall adjusting the clasp between his sleeve and neckpiece. Ikkaku looked significantly worse for wear, and Ichigo couldn’t help but wonder if the heat was making him angrier, or if the anger was making him hotter. The answer probably wouldn’t reveal much.

He took a moment to reflect on the last few hours. Ichigo had actually been in the middle of a dauntingly high stack of catch-up school work which, understandably, had really mounted up in the past few months.

And as with all problems in Ichigo’s life, it had come through the his bedroom window. It had been Renji, trying to push his window open in some attempt to be stealthy and perhaps sneak in and scare him stupid. Upon seeing he’d been busted, Renji just pointed to the window latch. Ichigo looked him flatly and shook his head, unwilling to humour him. The lieutenant simply thought for a moment, shrugged and reached for Zabimaru, which suddenly persuaded Ichigo to come and assist.

After clambering through the window somewhat inelegantly, Renji had informed Ichigo that Captain Ukitake had summoned him to be a part of a small task force. Ichigo had understandably been sceptical.

“Why me?” He’d asked. Renji just made a non-committal sound of ‘I dunno’, too invested in flicking through the magazine on Ichigo’s desk.

“Don’t ask me. I’m just here to collect you.”

“There’s literally hundreds of other soul reapers, and somehow I’m always top of the list when something needs doing?!” The Soul Society had left him alone for a while, so Ichigo guessed that nothing of vital importance had been happening lately. ‘Surely,’ Ichigo had thought, snatching the magazine out of Renji’s hands, ‘Surely someone else in the Seireitei has free time.’

Ichigo looked at Renji probingly, to which the Lieutenant prickled in response.

“I don’t know, I’ve just been sent to bring you back!” Renji was visibly annoyed with the elongating amount of time he was spending in the human world, “I’ve got a damn mountain of paperwork to do so are you coming or not?”

Ichigo glanced back to his own mountain, and sighed. It was always something with these people, wasn't it?

-

Somehow, Ichigo then found himself stood outside of Captain Ukitake’s quarters with Renji who was now shifting his weight from foot to foot, visibly itching to get back to his duties.

“Come in!” The voice from inside had called.

Once inside, Ukitake had dismissed Renji rather hastily. Ichigo watched him prostrate, and then all but flash step out of the Squad 13 barracks.

“Ichigo, you’re looking well!” Jushiro smiled warmly, although it was evident that he was suffering somewhat under the heatwave within the Seireitei.

“Yeah, you too, Jushiro.” Ichigo offered not completely insincerely, but still wanting to get to the point. He knew first-hand how tangential Captain Ukitake’s pleasantries could get. “So why am I here? As far as I knew, nothing’s really been going on in this place.”

“Ah…” The captain’s shoulders sagged a little , as if he were embarrassed. “Ichigo, all of us here in the Soul Society are forever grateful for all of your hard work. I’ve called you in to ask if you would undertake a small task along with a few others.”

Jushiro paused for Ichigo to offer any sort of question or assurance, and Ichigo once again found himself going along with the Captain’s inquiry. He’d found that it was hard to say no to Captain Ukitake, and coincidentally that the phrase ‘Kill them with kindness’ still held all of its meaning in the Seireitei.

“We’ve been tracking a few higher level hollows in Karakura Town for a while now, and we think it’s right to assume that they’re planning something.” Jushiro spoke as if he were confusing himself with his own words, “They’ve been nesting. Breeding. Waiting for… something.”

“Hollows breed?” Ichigo questioned.

“Not normal hollows, no.” The captain brought his hand to his chin thoughtfully, “These hollows, however, are far from normal. From what we know, these are a special case. They’ve been harmless so far, even allowing our scouting teams to come within a detectable range without provocation.”

Ichigo couldn’t hide the fact that he was interested, but thought it was in his best interests to hide that fact. “Where do I come into this, Jushiro?”

“Well, a few days ago we sent a few men near their nest on a routine scouting mission. Fairly low ranking soul reapers so as to keep the concentration of spirit energy low.” Jushiro appeared almost guilty, “Unfortunately, it appears that the hollows have suddenly become hostile, and we lost all five men to the nest. Just as the Arrancars rose from the Adjuchas, we believe something similar may be happening here, although hopefully not on the same scale.”

“A while ago I proposed sending a small task force of high ranking soul reapers into the nest to stop this before it became a major problem, although I have only just managed to appeal to Central 46 as Captain Kurotsuchi had been assigned to this matter. As you can expect, he wished to see them carry out whatever it is they’re planning for his research, but I believe that this needs to be dealt with sooner rather than later. That’s where you come in, Ichigo. I have already assigned third-seat Madarame and fifth-seat Ayasegawa to this matter, and hopefully I can count on your support?” He posed the end as a question towards Ichigo, leaving the floor open for his answer.

Ichigo knew he wasn’t in any position to decline, as he clearly had the time to spare, and anyone who knew Ichigo’s bleeding heart knew he would always be ready and willing to defend his home town. It was a rather backhanded tactic on Ukitake’s part, Ichigo thought, but decided not to tarnish his good-natured image by looking too far into it.

“Alright, Jushiro.” Ichigo sighed, “Where’s the nest, exactly?”

Ukitake reacquired his warm demeanour quite suddenly, “Excellent! Madarame and Ayasegawa have all the details and should be waiting for you at the Senkaimon. They’ll take you to the Foothold and give you the briefing from there.” Ichigo’s face pinched at the word he didn’t recognise.

“The Foothold? Is that a place?”

“Oh! It slipped my mind that you wouldn’t have heard of it.” As Ukitake spoke, he was moving himself and Ichigo to the door. “It’s sort of an offsite location we have to allow for research and medical aid to take place in the human world. You’ll be there for a few weeks, so take your gigai and anything you may need.”

‘Is it really a gigai if it’s just my body?’ Ichigo wondered, and immediately yanked himself away from that train of thought before it started. Too existential, best for thinking over on a sleepless night. How long had the Captain mentioned just then? _Weeks?_

“Wait, a few weeks?!” Ichigo said, almost panicked as he was being ushered out of the room. Ukitake exited after him and slid the doors closed, locking them as he did so.

“Don’t worry, Ichigo, it’s a rather lovely place! It’ll be like a holiday!” Ichigo fumbled with the litany of questions he had, but was again being ushered down the tranquil walkway that connected Ukitake’s quarters to the Squad 13 barracks. “I’m sorry that I can’t be there to see you off myself, what with a request this large, but I find myself frightfully busy in these quiet days. After all, my squad doesn’t run itself!” He offered a soft chuckle, turning down the opposite road to Ichigo at the end of the walkway. “The butterflies should be arriving any minute! Good luck, Ichigo!”

-

And here he was. Waiting for a further fourty-five minutes since arriving at the Senkaimon.

“…so there’s an extra squad in the world of the living?”

Yumichika pinched the spot between his brows, “No.”

“So what, there’s just some empty barracks somewhere in my town?”

“Ichigo. Sweetheart. Any other day, persistence is a good look for you, but…” Yumichika cast a quick glance over to the guards in front of the gates, “…it’s something better discussed in privacy.” Ikkaku grunted in agreement. Ichigo wasn’t sure if that was true or if they were just tired of hearing his questions, which, rightfully so, he had a hell of a lot of.

So he left it, for now, and waited for the butterflies to come.

It was another fifteen minutes or so before they finally showed, and the guards opened the gate to let the three of them through. Ichigo was situated between the two Squad 11 members in a line, since he couldn’t commune with the hell butterflies himself, and so they travelled though the ever eerie precipice world. Ichigo compelled himself to stifle his questions, and finally released the breath he was holding in when Yumichika broke the silence.

“The Foothold is… hard to explain.” The fifth-seat sounded as if he were searching for the right words.

“It’s a holiday home for the Captains.” Ikkaku quipped before Yumichika could speak again. He walked in front of Ichigo with Hozukimaru held behind his neck, and both arms slung over its sheath. Without looking, he could feel the look Yumichika shot him from behind Ichigo’s shoulder.

“To anyone other than the captains, lieutenants and a select few others, it’s an ‘intensive training outpost’ that’s used mostly as a threat for under-performing squad members,” Yumichika explained, “but for those few lucky enough to know if it, for lack of a better term, it’s mostly a holiday home.”

“That’s… actually really cold.” Ichigo was truthfully a little disgusted in learning the true nature of the Foothold, but he knew more about the Soul Society now than he ever did, and he knew that it wasn’t some perfect haven. “So the Captains get to relax in some villa while the rest of their squad busts their asses training?” There was the tiniest hint of venom in his words, as Ichigo might as well have had ‘Sticks up for the little man’ tattooed across his chest.

“Yer sympathy’s gonna get you killed one day, Ichigo.” Ikkaku chuckled, “It ain’t that bad.”

-

The trio emerged into Karakura Town not long after, standing high above the town as the sun began to set.

“So where is this place?” Ichigo said, spotting his home by backtracking the streets leading from his high school.

“There. Near the shrine.” Ikkaku pointed Hozukimaru towards the quieter end of town. Ichigo could just about make out the town’s main shrine where the New Years’ event was held every year. He knew the way from his home, even if it was a twenty-five minute brisk walk. His calves ached at the thought. “Go get your shit and meet us there, it ain’t much further.”

“We have to head to a drop-off site,” Yumichika clarified to the clearly quizzical Ichigo, “We should arrive at about the same time. The way the Foothold’s set up, its easier to be in a gigai, so don’t forget yours.”

“Is it a gigai if it’s your own body?” Ichigo wondered out loud, and was met by weird looks from Ikkaku and Yumichika both, “…Never mind. I got it, I’ll meet you there.”

When Ichigo arrived home, he was a little surprised to find his family out for the evening. Although this did make it easier to leave a note giving a bare minimum explanation as to why he’d be gone for a few weeks. To his dad and sisters, he was heading off to some bullshit summer camp he’d received a last minute, all expenses paid invite to. It was unknown if the reality would actually be much different, what with the talk of this place being a Captain’s holiday villa.

He’d left his body tucked into bed with a sign on the door saying ‘do not disturb’, something that would get him a sharp smack upside the head if Rukia had caught him. In all honesty, he had actually misplaced Kon’s gikongan and didn’t have enough time to find it before Renji had all but dragged him out of his own bedroom window, body or not.

Slipping back into his body, he packed what he considered two weeks worth of clothes, toiletries and whatever else into a backpack. He was about to leave, having placed the note perfectly central on his desk, when he caught sight of his stack of homework. He thought for a moment, sighed heavily, and jammed it all into another bag.

Ten minutes down the road, he found a small green pill trapped against his leg within his jeans pocket; He wondered if it would be advantageous or not to bring the little shit, but tucked it back into his pocket nonetheless.

-

Twenty minutes later, Ichigo was perched on a low wall outside of the shrine fiddling with something on his phone. Somehow, whenever he left it out of his sight for longer than an hour he ended up with some awful wallpaper, and just didn’t have the savviness to change it back. No doubt Karin’s ever evolving sense of humour as she was growing up. It did make Ichigo smile a little looking at the weirdly edited image of a horse behind the clock on his lockscreen, and he contemplated just leaving it.

“Yo, Ichigo.” It was Ikkaku’s voice that pulled his head up and made him hurriedly stash his phone back into his pocket. He and Yumichika, now burdened with bags of their own, motioned for him to follow them from across the street, so Ichigo shouldered his own rucksacks and hurried towards them.

It took approximately thirty-five seconds for Ichigo to be unable to contain his questions again.

“Does anyone look after the place? Like when no-one’s there?”

“Yes, actually.” Yumichika offered patiently, unlike Ikkaku who had just groaned when he heard the start of a query roll off Ichigo’s tongue, “Our fourth seat.”

“I thought you guys didn’t have a fourth seat.”

“Doing a lot of thinkin’ today, aren’tcha?” Ikkaku muttered under his breath. He was ignored.

“To those of little to no rank, we don’t.” Yumichika said after frowning at Ikkaku, “It’s a long story, but he was stationed here permanently a while ago. When the Foothold became a need to know basis, he more or less disappeared with it.”

‘Great,’ Ichigo thought sullenly, ‘If it’s run by the 11th, this place is bound to be a pigsty.’

“This is it.” Ikkaku all but announced. Ichigo didn’t even realise he’d been staring at his own stepping feet the entire way there and raised his head to see.

The place was… big. Bigger than he’d thought it would be. It wasn’t quite mansion sized, but surely couldn’t have been more than a few shades away. The outside was reminiscent of the architecture inside the Soul Society in looking like something from a edo-period history book, yet with modern twists and very well kept. It reminded him of those old medieval towns that were preserved for tourists to explore, sometimes complete with authentic tea houses. Weirdly, Ichigo couldn’t seem to find a reason that made it stand out amongst the surrounding buildings. It wasn’t that they looked the same, it was that his mind couldn’t connect the dots that the two didn’t belong side by side.

“Don’t make that face, Ichigo, you’ll get wrinkles.” Yumichika chided, nudging Ichigo out of his trance, “There’s a kido barrier around it so humans don’t start wandering inside. Makes them feel uneasy to be near.” Now that he mentioned it, Ichigo thought he remembered there being talk of a haunted house somewhere in Karakura Town, but he’d chalked it up to his dad’s insane ramblings. “You get used to it after the first few times.”

“First few? How often do you two come out here?” Ichigo asked incredulously, almost stumbling to follow the other men up the garden path. It was very neatly kept.

“Not often, only when we’re not needed.” The fifth-seat rapped his knuckles on the front door, “It comes out of our paycheck.”

It was a long moment before any noise came from behind the carved door.

They heard a very light pattering of feet, coupled with heavy sounding locks unclicking and unlatching. Even fainter, Ichigo heard a soft ‘Fuck, that was today?’ as the last lock clattered.

Ichigo had already cemented what this guy was gonna look like as soon as he heard it was another member of Squad 11- brawny, tall, looks like you couldn’t trust them as far as you could throw them. Unfortunately for the substitute soul reaper’s currently fragile mind, his expectation was shattered when the door opened.

The man that stood behind the door wasn’t brawny, but kind of… soft-looking and feminine. He wore a skin-tight, grey bodysuit topped by a black hoodie that ended just past his ribs. He was also… kinda small. A brief look and Ichigo summed up that this guy probably came to his chest at a push. Was this guy _really_ in squad 11? And a fourth seat no less?

His face didn’t portray any sense of mistrust either, despite the fact that Ichigo guessed he could probably throw him a fair distance. His features were soft but came to a point around the jaw and cheekbones. His honey coloured eyes were sunken, with dark circles shadowing them in perfect semicircles. Long, almost platinum hair hung down to his lower back in a somewhat mussed fashion, causing his long bangs to point in strange directions.

“I could have sworn the report said tomorrow.” The man at the door eyed Ikkaku and Yumichika, who stood closest to the door, suspiciously. It was clear that he didn’t harbour any real suspicions and just wanted to ruffle their feathers.

“And I coulda sworn that you knew how to read.” Ikakku shot back. The blond crossed his arms and leaned a shoulder against the doorframe.

“I don’t have to let you in.”

“Like hell you don’t, shortstack.” The third-seat muscled his way through the door, but not before smirking and mussing the top of the housekeeper’s hair on the way past.

“Yeah, yeah, whatever.” the blond muttered, batting his hand away and walking back inside. Ichigo followed Yumichika in somewhat awkwardly, stopping at the doorway to take his shoes off and pair them neatly beside a collection of others.

The front door lead straight into a large, open plan living room of sorts that matched the outside in its mix of traditional and modern. One corner of the area was dedicated to a large hearth sat in a lowered section of the floor, surrounded by cushions. In another was a modern-ish (it would have probably been modern 20 years ago) kitchen, complete with a large dining table and a breakfast bar most likely seating around 20, at a combined squeeze. There was also a typical family living room in the next corner, boasting an impressively sized television framed by three sofas. Ichigo was struggling to take it all in, his eyes not knowing where to look next.

Yumichika discarded his bag next to Ikkaku’s near the sofas and rushed to pull their host into a tight hug.

“Hoki, we missed you!” Even being the shortest of the three of them, if only by a few inches, Yumichika smothered the poor boy. He hugged back just as earnestly, struggling to say something along the lines of ‘I missed you, too’ through a mouthful of clothing. The fifth-seat eventually released him and put his hands on his shoulders like a stern mother would. “Are you doing alright? Eating well? Sleeping well? You haven’t broken any more ribs, have you?” He was scrutinising every part of the young soul reaper, but the blond just laughed him off.

“I’m fine, mother! Nothing’s really changed since the last time you were here, apart from the new sofa.” He was pulled into another tight squeeze that seemed to cut off his breathing this time.

Ichigo stood near the doorway rather awkwardly until the blond spoke to him directly. “I take it you’re our fourth man?”

“Uh, yeah, I think. Ichigo Kurosaki, substitute soul reaper.” He offered dumbly.

“Resident pain in the ass, if the damage reports are anything to go by.” The other man said, but laughed when Ichigo’s face twisted with confusion, “I’m kidding. Hoki Inumuta, 11th Division, 4th seat.” Ichigo was surprised when he offered him a hand in greeting, he didn’t think he’d ever seen any other soul reaper greet another with a handshake before. Nonetheless he took it, startled by how small the hand in his was as they shook.

“So you run this place?” he asked while talking another glance around.

“Just about. Whatever needs doing, cleaning, repairing, replacing sofas when they’ve been snapped clean in half,” Hoki emphasised that part and looked sternly at Ikkaku for a moment, who snorted from his place leaned against the breakfast bar, “I take care of it. Just like you would your own house.”

“So you live here? Doesn’t that get lonely? I think I’d go crazy having to clean a place this big.”

“You get used to it. You wouldn’t believe how often some captains and lieutenants come down.” As he spoke, Hoki was collecting the two bags Ikkaku and Yumichika had brought and moving towards the stairway, motioning for Ichigo to follow. “Between the those and the remote conferences, I’m usually struggling for free time, believe it or not.” Ichigo gathered up his own belongings and followed dutifully, ascending the stairs a few steps behind the blond. “You don’t need to worry about formality here, think of it as a home away from home. Your room’s just through here.”

Hoki lead him down a long corridor with sliding paper doors spaced along each wall and around the corner. There were fewer rooms down this way, but the doors were typical wooden hinged doors. “I figured you’d want something like your own room so I set you up in here. Now that I’ve had a good look at you I’m not actually sure there’s a bed on this earth that can fit those legs, though.” Hoki managed to elbow the door open and Ichigo peered inside,

It wasn’t small by any means, near enough the same size as his room at home but wider rather than longer. A portion of the room was dedicated to a plush-looking double bed pushed into a corner. Along with a wardrobe, a desk and an armchair, it was modestly furnished for comfort. Ichigo wasn’t sure what he had expected, maybe something akin to a hostel, but this was a nice surprise. He realised that he hadn’t even thanked his host since he walked through the door.

“Thanks, it’s just like home actually.” he said genuinely, stepping into the room to place his bags at the foot of the bed.

“You wouldn’t believe how long it took me to get these rooms put in. The higher ups didn’t see the need in it but I don’t think any of them have actually experienced a raised double bed before.” Hoki laughed as he watched Ichigo’s face when he found the en suite, “Let me know if you’d rather have a bath, there’s one in my room just next door. We’ll go over the brief as a team tomorrow. For now, just get comfy and come get a beer downstairs or something. I’m ordering takeout.”

“Thanks, I’ll be there.” Ichigo smiled to his host, who smiled back and left him to his thoughts, closing the door behind him. As soon as the door closed, he flopped back onto the bed and let his arms splay outwards. He was truly grateful for the familiar softness of the bed, having only needed to spend a few nights in the Soul Society’s beds before ending up with a sore back. He wasn’t sure how other soul reapers did it day in, day out.

In fact, the bed he laid on must have been comfier than he thought as Ichigo found himself startled awake, jolting upright to a knock at the door. Shit, how long had he fell asleep for?

“You in there, Ichigo?” It was Hoki. Ichigo palmed at his eyes, glancing to the window for an approximate time. The light had finally faded, leaving the room in that weird ‘I-just-woke-up-from-a-nap-and-don’t-know-what-day-it-is’ darkness.

“Yeah, sorry, I fell asleep.” The door tentatively opened and Hoki gingerly poked his face through followed by a mass of hair.

“Sorry for waking you. I’d have let you sleep but Ikkaku’s getting antsy about ordering food.”

“I’ll change and be right down.” Hoki stuck a thumbs up through the crack in the door and left him be.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ichigo finds someone to relate to, and things lead to other things as things are sometimes wont to do.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you want to skip the smut, look for the ***** divider and just read to there, no hard feelings.
> 
> Was the smut necessary? Absolutely not, but have it anyway. If it wasn't clear, Ichigo is 18+ in this. My man deserves to be happy. Lots of hurt/comfort in this chapter. Also lots of trans themes so watch yourself if stuff like that doesn't vibe well with you.
> 
> This is my first fic in a LONG time, my first smut piece in even longer, and the first one I've ever shared publicly so please don't be shy to give ANY criticism as I genuinely have no clue how my work comes across. Also, PLEASE lmk if you notice I write too 'British' cause I haven't stopped thinking about it since I started it.

Two hours later and the four were fed and happy, sat comfortably on the sofas with each of their preferred drink in hand. Ikkaku and Yumichika were both in their gigais, both appearing completely at home within the Foothold. Ichigo was having a slightly harder time relaxing, being dropped in an unfamiliar place on such short notice, but the beer he was holding was slowly but surely helping with that. He knew he was a lightweight but the only beer they’d had in was a higher percentage than he was used to, and very quickly ended up going to his head.

“How did the last recruitment go?” Hoki asked, absent-mindedly twiddling the straw in his homemade cocktail. It looked lethal. Ikakku shook his head in distaste, taking a swig from his can and spreading his arms around the back of the sofa.

“Bad. Don’t know why they even let some’a them kids apply in the first place.”

“Any casualties?”

A wry smile was plastered on the third-seats face, “Why’dya think we had to bring two bags for the paperwork?” Hoki let his head fall back as he frowned.

“Great.” he said flatly, and took a sip through the straw.

“Fresh recuits actually die when they try and join?” Ichigo was surprised, half having believed that students from the academy were welcomed into their respective squads with open arms.

“Only the ones who think they’re hot shit and go straight for a seat.” Ikkaku sneered, taking another swig, “Punks think they’re the first person to ever reach shikai and go straight for a rank.”

“Reminds me of someone.” Yumichika muttered into his glass, nearly spilling his merlot when a foot collided with his shoulder.

“Ever thought of going through the ringer, Ichigo? Getting a seat in a squad? From what I’ve read about you, it sounds like you could easily make third seat in whatever squad you wanted.” Hoki turned to his couch-mate, frowning when his long hair got caught in between the cushions.

“Not if that’s who I end up having to work with.” Ichigo replied, gaze fixed on Ikkaku and Yumichika, both locked in a desperate attempt to fend each other off without spilling any alcohol in the process. The blond laughed an ugly, tipsy laugh, and Ichigo realised what he’d said was kind of mean, “I mean, I don’t even think they’d let me. I think the looser contract I have with the Soul Society I have, the better.” ‘That wasn’t really much nicer.’ he thought, beginning to struggle with higher brain functions, at this point.

“I know what you mean. Sounds to me if you were too pinned down to a squad, the captains wouldn’t be able to send you off to save the world as often.” the blond took another long sip and reached into the sofa cushions, retrieving a crumpled cigarette packet, “C’mon, you look like you need some air.” Hoki climbed out of his curled up seating position, grimacing when his knees cracked in unison. He retrieved another beer on his way to the back doors, tossing it to Ichigo before the two found themselves sat on the deck in the back garden.

It was just the right spot between warm and brisk that was enough to cool your skin but not make you shiver, and Ichigo hadn’t even realised how hot he had become until it felt like he depressurised as soon as the air hit him. He knew he had that stupid red tint you got when you’d had enough drinks, but glancing over at Hoki made him feel not so alone as he had it too. He watched him cup his hands around the end of the cigarette to light, and then at the smoke that swirled in the dim light.

“You don’t seem like every other soul reaper I’ve met.” Ichigo didn’t even realise he was saying anything until he’d finished and was sputtering, “I’m sorry! I don’t know why-”

“It’s alright! You’re too polite for your own good.” Hoki laughed, obviously feeling the effects of his disastrous looking cocktail, “I guess I’m a weird case, even by the standards in the Seireitei. I’m the result of a lot of weird circumstances and bad timings.” Ichigo managed to read the room somewhat, or rather the lack thereof, and decided not to pry.

“…Like what?” Wait, hadn’t he just told himself he wasn’t gonna be nosy? He was relieved when Hoki smiled and took another drag from his cigarette. The blond didn’t seem like the type to get offended easily, thankfully.

“I was gonna tell you at the briefing anyway, don’t look so guilty! Gonna make me feel bad, too.” Hoki laughed again and nudged his knee with his own, “I was diagnosed with something called spirit fluctuations when I first joined the 11th. It’s pretty common, mostly flies under the radar in most people but I just happened to get it bad.” From spending summers helping his dad in the clinic, Ichigo had a fair amount of medical knowledge under his belt, and was genuinely interested, “For me, it means that my reishi balance is… delicate.” Hoki was struggling a little to pull together the words to explain it, and he figured that he hadn’t had to explain it to anyone in a while. He soldiered on, though.

“I won’t bore you with the ins and outs but, in a nutshell, my spirit energy spikes out of control when I’m agitated, and I can’t control it very well. I remember once when it hit bad. I was in the barracks, sparring with another squad member when he made some… unsavoury comments. Completely flew off the handle, ended up killing the guy and one of his friends too.” Hoki’s voice caught almost imperceptibly before inhaling smoke again, and Ichigo’s heart tugged a little for him. He could relate almost completely, and remembered the early days when he endlessly had to struggle with his hollow. That menacing voice stirred below the empathy, giving him a familiar cold twinge in his stomach.

~ _Kindred souls, eh, King?~_

Ichigo pushed the hollow’s presence away, as he had become well accustomed to doing, and focused on listening instead.

“I don’t really remember much while it was happening, or much after. Woke up on the floor with the Captain’s foot on my neck and surrounded by swords. After that, I was Squad 12’s problem, more or less. Started going for routine tests, learned to meditate often, moved up the ranks.” Another long drag, breathing out thoughtfully, “Ended up here where I can’t “be a threat to anyone”.” He wagged his fingers in air quotes around the last bit and let out a pensive chuckle.

“That’s fucked up! It’s not your fault!” Ichigo said louder than he expected to, releasing the tense grip that was bending his beer can. He saw the irony in his speech, knowing he was in the same boat in some ways, “Didn’t anyone fight for you to stay?”

“Oh yeah, the Captain, actually.” Ichigo didn’t hide his shocked look, at which Hoki smiled at, “Insisted he’d personally deal with any other outbursts. I think he was just more interested in having a regular sparring partner who didn’t hold back.” There was a strange, almost wistful look in his eye as he fiddled with his fingers. Ichigo was getting a little nervous that he’d just made this poor guy pour his heart out to him for his own personal curiosity.

“It might sound cliché but we’re actually not so different.” Ichigo offered in the silence, relieved when Hoki looked at him with not so much of a downtrodden look anymore, “I have a hollow inside me, and when I first got into all this I couldn’t stop him from controlling me when I fought. Ended up going kind of crazy a few times back in the Soul Society. It sounds like we go through the same thing, more or less.”

Hoki seemed to absorb all of this, mulling it over in his mind. After a brief period of thought, a grin cracked his face and he looked back at Ichigo quizzically, “He?” That… wasn’t the question Ichigo had expected, but found himself smiling back.

“Y-yeah.” Hoki started laughing, and Ichigo did too. He supposed if you didn’t laugh, you’d cry. “Is that weird?”

“I don’t know, is it?” They were giggling drunkenly between themselves now. He’d never actually thought of the idea of him referring to some guy living in his head from an outsider’s view before. "Does he have a body? Or a face?”

“Well yeah, kind of. I see him sometimes in my inner world.”

“Does he talk?”

“Yeah. Mostly just swings his sword -my sword- at me, though.” He rubbed the back of his neck, very aware that he was just sounding weirder and weirder. Hoki didn’t seem to mind, though, and was genuinely interested at the mess that was the inside of his mind. It wasn’t often that he talked about his hollow, and he wasn’t even sure why he was telling all this to someone he’d just met. He supposed that there was some truth to what his hollow had said, birds of a feather and all that.

“That’s crazy. You’re a weird guy, Ichigo.” The blond shook his head and pulled from his cigarette again, batting at the ash that fell into his lap. “…Can I meet him?”

If Ichigo were sober, that question probably would have winded him more than it did. He felt his hollow stir, rumbling inquisitively in his throat. Truthfully, he’d never even humoured the idea of someone that wasn’t himself, his hollow and Zangetsu in his inner world. It did interest him, he would admit, and from Hoki’s tone, he didn’t seem to be taking it as some sort of weird gimmick or shameful flaw.

“…Is that even possible?” Ichigo asked, half to himself.

“Might be. You meditate often on your zanpakuto?”

“Probably not as often as I should. Zangetsu isn’t really a conversationalist.”

Hoki laughed again, and Ichigo realised it was extremely contagious, “Neither is Jatai. Maybe they’d get along.”

There was a stretch of silence between them then, neither one wanting to leave the night air just yet. Ichigo had reclined back onto his elbows, his brain pickling in the fuzziness of conversation and alcohol. Hoki was folded in a cross-legged sit, the lycra of his bodysuit almost threatening to tear around the plushness of his thighs. Out of nowhere, Ichigo realised he was thinking about how much of his hands he could fit round them.

~ _Only one way to find out, Ichigo~_

He squeezed his eyes shut tight, pushing his own consciousness over the hollow like a wave until it was silenced. When he effectively came to again, the blond had leaned over close enough that Ichigo could practically taste the tooth-rottingly sweet cocktail he’d been drinking.

“You alright? Went a bit pale on me there.” A small hand came up and placed itself on Ichigo’s forehead. It was so cold it burned against his heated skin.

There was just something about Hoki’s soft face. That pale skin marred only by the darkness under his eyes. Ichigo felt compelled to spill his guts to this man, and was sure that he most likely would given the chance. It felt good to talk about it all, good to know that someone else understood what he goes through. The Vizards understood, Ichigo knew that, but they had dedicated themselves to reclaiming what had been forced upon them. He knew that they had come together in a joint sense of hurt as a rag-tag family, each knowing what the others had been through. He knew this, and respected them more than he’d ever let them know, but Ichigo was different.

He didn’t know if he’d ever get to the level of acceptance they did, if he’d ever be able to accept his duality. He knew his friends pretended to so as not to worry him, but he knew how they really felt. Nothing near disgust, but careful trepidation as if he were made of eggshells not to be treaded on too harshly.

Hoki was different, the complete opposite in a way. He didn’t have a hollow. Instead he had the separate but very real fear of losing control. That deep fear of yourself and what you were capable of, all held together by a very thin thread. Ichigo supposed that, actually, that might be scarier. To lose all control and not know why. He knew his hollow, almost inside and out, and he knew that he had to balance control and instinct or be subdued by brute force. Having that threat looming over his head, combined with no-one behind the wheel, would have surely broken him far before he mastered his hollowfication.

So when Ichigo leaned in and pushed his lips against Hoki’s, he desperately hoped that that understanding and empathy was communicated. There was a moment of hesitancy on Hoki’s part that soon melted away as he leaned into the kiss. Without breaking contact, Ichigo sat up to his full height and gently pulled at Hoki’s sleeve, a request to scoot closer. He did, crawling towards him and resting a hand on Ichigo’s arm.

The kiss was gentle and comforting, as if an acceptance of vulnerability between both parties. It deepened into caressing tongues when Ichigo brought one hand to twist into the hair on the nape of the blond’s neck, and the other laid almost too softly on the inside of his thigh. He’d been right, it was like a freshly fluffed pillow, and god if he didn’t wonder if it would feel the same against his cheek.

He offered a soft question, nervous for the answer he’d receive, and flexed his fingers into the soft flesh they almost completely surrounded. An answer, a soft moan, pushed more of that blue curacao and cigarette taste down his throat. Hoki opened the dialogue further by moving his own hand, searching for the opening where Ichigo’s hoodie didn’t quite reach his waistband, and slipped underneath. His touch was graceful but heavenly soft, the tips of his fingers grazing up and through the dips and peaks of Ichigo’s hardened body.

At this point, Ichigo had been suppressing his hollow’s voice, but when that soft hand roamed further north and softly feathered over his nipple, it caught them both by surprise. He couldn’t stop the groan, unsure when it had even built, and felt his hollow shiver in his spine. They were one, after all, and when one wanted something, the other was nearly powerless to stop them; It was very lucky that today they wanted the same thing.

Hoki squeaked indignantly, another sweet sound swallowed, when there were hands suddenly shoved under his ass, hoisting him over to straddle Ichigo’s thighs with minimum lifting effort. There were no complaints however as he pushed another hand beneath the hoodie to roam as it pleased. Hoki smiled into their kissing when he felt the hands on his ass squeeze, coupled with a groan. Their mouths parted for just a moment.

“How are you _this_ soft?” Ichigo mumbled against his lips, not needing an answer before their tongues met again. Hoki smiled again, humming as he mapped out the individual abs underneath his palms. He felt around to the sides too, very softly scraping his nails up his ribs all the way up to his collarbone and down again, not seeming to be getting enough with each round. Ichigo gave a low murmur deep in his throat, breaking away from his lips to kiss down his cheek, past his jaw to any spot he could find that wasn’t covered in the high neck of Hoki’s bodysuit.

~ _Tear it off!~_

He did skim his teeth along the hem for a brief moment, but carried on searching for skin. That bodysuit could have cost hundreds, for all he knew about fashion.

“Wait, Ichigo.”

All at once, everything stopped. The squeezing, the kissing, the touching, everything halted and Ichigo’s world span from the headrush. He pulled his mouth away to see Hoki’s face in the low light coming from the windows behind. The blond’s eyes were hazy and half closed, but something less savoury tinted his features into almost guilt. All at once, Ichigo’s thumping heart dropped from his throat to his stomach. He knew he had been in tentative territory to begin with.

“I-I’m so sorry, is this too much?” he said quietly, his voice was gruff from lack of use, “We can stop if you need to.” Ichigo would probably have said anything right then to be back on that skin, and he knew it was selfish. He could feel his hollow slipping under the skin on his fingers, trying to push him onwards. Hoki’s features softened again, but not completely.

“No, you’re fine, it’s just…” he paused, and Ichigo moved his hands away from his ass to a more comforting and modest hold on his lower back, “…there’s something you should know.”

He didn’t press him, instead opting to rub circles into the small of his back. ‘Just as soft as the rest.’ he thought, eyes glued to Hoki’s face patiently. He could feel muscle here, tight and toned as he stiffened with a breath. “I totally get it if you don’t want to go any further, like we can pretend this never happened-” Hoki was rambling, stumbling over his words like a child caught stealing sweets. Obviously he was trying to breach into something he found tough to talk about, but Ichigo still didn’t press. Instead he just offered his presence as an anchor, a soft squeeze around his waist to center him again.

Hoki searched his face, eyes darting around for something. He had tensed up completely as if ready to receive a blow, and swallowed.

“I’m not… I…” Frustration tied his words together, tripping him over himself in the process. Ichigo just held his eye, carrying on those circles in his back, keeping a rhythm of calm and collective-ness. Hoki just sucked in a breath and forced himself through it, “I don’t… I don’t have… y’know… a-a dick.”

~ _This one’s full of surprises~_

All at once, in the way he leaned a few degrees away from Ichigo, in the way his arms instinctively came towards his body, the way he lowered his head trying to hide his face, all at once Ichigo understood. When he’d mentioned the ‘unsavoury comments’ that had aggravated his condition, and the way he’d pinched his cigarette a little tighter when he’d talked about the whole affair. The hesitancy at the beginning of their escapade. Ichigo’s heart was pulled in every which way at his confession. It shouldn’t have had to be a confession at all, but it was blaringly obvious that this wasn’t the first time he’d had to expect the worst. He couldn’t even begin to imagine how one goes around that sort of thing while trying to be part of a military squad.

It was cruel to think that maybe Hoki had experienced these same events play out before, and in this fork in the road someone had pushed him away in disgust, or worse. Ichigo felt that need to soothe again, to be a steady flow of validation and comfort; It was something about him he could never seem to shake growing up, and something that had carved his life out in a non-wavering path for years now. It wasn’t anything like love or lust, but the overwhelming need to be a shield, a safety net, and sometimes a soft blanket.

“I-If you’re put off I totally get it, we can just forget this ever happened.” More nervous rambling. He wanted -needed- to let Hoki know that he wasn’t going to run, or hurt him, and, more selfishly, he didn’t want to stop. He supposed a good start would be to reply.

“That doesn’t bother me, Hoki. I’m not going anywhere.” he said softly, pressing his palms up his spine, “And I definitely don’t want to forget.”

Hoki completely and utterly decompressed, so much so that Ichigo thought he actually might liquefy and slip through his legs, letting out a long, relieved sigh. The blond pushed a hand through his hair, shaking off the nerves that had rattled him.

“Sorry. That’s always the awkward part.” Hoki said quietly, messing with the drawstring on Ichigo’s hoodie, “Thanks for not kicking me or anything.” He meant it as a joke but Ichigo gave him a sad look.

“I’d have to be an idiot for that.” Hoki laughed, and tied the drawstring into a bow.

“Cute. Should we go upstairs? My ass is getting cold.”

“Definitely.”

*****

It took them longer than it should have to get to the stairs. They decided to down the rest of their drinks in competition, almost choking in unison when Hoki forgot about his straw when he valiantly lifted his glass to his mouth and ended up with it in his eye. They also guiltily noticed that Ikkaku and Yumichika had already gone to bed, and tried their hardest to avoid any squeaky floorboards on the way to Hoki’s room.

The door had barely closed before Hoki was having his cropped hoodie pulled over his head insistently. It was quickly discarded somewhere on the already messy floor along with Ichigo’s, taken off in tandem with his t-shirt in one motion. Their hands were back on each other then, the taller man’s back against the door as he pulled the blond into him once more. It took him standing up on the balls of his feet but Hoki snared Ichigo’s mouth again, trailing his hands up his chest to link around his neck.

With their bodies flush, Ichigo was aware that Hoki could probably feel his hard-on against his stomach. He knew it wasn’t unwelcome from the way the blond pressed his body somehow even closer, squeezing it against his hip. Hoki smirked against Ichigo’s lips, grazing his hands back down his chest. Ichigo caught them, a little rougher than he’d meant to, making the blond gasp and pull his head back to connect their gazes.

Ichigo parted the arms in his grasp in such a way that Hoki’s body bent up to him and he raked his eyes down the sight. The tight bodysuit he wore ended at the shoulders and Ichigo followed the stitching across his chest like a treasure map, finding a long zip reaching from his stomach to just underneath his chin. Hoki smiled again when he’d realised what Ichigo was looking for and let his head loll to the side, exposing his neck to him.

The hollow inside him flared and burned like a hungry predator at the gesture, desperate to be at that throat that bobbed with a swallow.

~ _Mark it! Ruin it!~_

He couldn’t, as much as he wanted to. This wasn’t about anything like possessiveness, but an understanding between two people who share a vice. It didn’t have to be sex either, but neither one of them was about to stop and complain.

Slowly he took the zipper and pulled it down, unravelling inch by inch more of that delicate skin. The fabric caved to the curves of Hoki’s body and split open, exposing his heaving chest to the air. It took both of them to help him wriggle out of the top portion, letting it hang around his hips where the zipper ended.

His skin was perfect, mostly. Under his nipples were perfectly symmetrical scars, long ones that had healed a number of years ago and stretched around his ribs. Ichigo knew what they were, and hovered his hands around Hoki’s ribs, looking to him for permission. It was hard to see through the hazy look spread on his face but Hoki nodded.

Ichigo gently cupped his hands around the sides of his chest and smoothed his thumbs over the scars. They were almost completely flat, existing only as a texture under his own rough pads.

“These are…” he all but whispered.

“Mm.” Hoki nodded again, pressing himself further into the touch, “Sensitive, too.” Ichigo managed to tear his eyes away from his chest to look into his face. Hoki was completely flushed, almost panting with his lips hanging open; Ichigo was suddenly more aware of how hard he was straining underneath his boxers.

All at once he kissed the blond again, diving underneath to his ass to lift him and wrap his legs around his waist. Rather unsteadily he walked the both of them to the bed, having to use his shins to find his way around in the moonlight. It was hard to pay attention to anything that wasn’t connected to his hands, lips or torso but he miraculously found the mattress and dropped them both onto it.

“I don’t even weigh anything to you, do I?” Hoki stifled his laugh, eyes raking down Ichigo’s impressive body.

“Not really.” Ichigo replied, propping himself up on one hand to use the other to try and work the tie on his gym shorts. Hoki followed suit and brought his thighs to his chest, letting him discard of the rest of his bodysuit and underwear in a smooth motion.

They were finally exposed to each other, both of them saying nothing but drinking in the sights before them. Hoki reached out, slow and gracefully, and smoothed his fingers along the underside of Ichigo’s cock, making the him hiss though his teeth.

In the spirit of not wasting any more time, they fumbled in the sheets until they were spooned together. Hoki lay with his back flush against Ichigo’s chest and one of his legs hooked around his, spreading him open lewdly. Ichigo was sucking at his neck again, licking and nibbling at all the newly exposed skin. The hollow roared at him to bite down and mark him with deep, speckled bruises, and the way Hoki ground himself against his cock made it hard to resist.

Ichigo palmed at his thigh again with the hand that wasn’t trapped under his head, feeling Hoki’s moan vibrate against his teeth when his fingers pinched his swollen clit. His ministrations were slow and exploratory, touching and teasing at every part of the blond’s anatomy until he was pushing his head back into Ichigo’s shoulder, urging him for more.

The head of his cock rested just below Hoki’s entrance, and it didn’t take much manoeuvring to line himself up and gently press into him. Ichigo groaned as he was practically swallowed into the tight heat. It was too warm, too soft, too slick to not go for broke and keep going until he was fully sheathed inside of him. Hoki had had to cover his mouth with his hands of he would have woken up the rest of the neighbourhood.

He fucked him slowly, keeping a gentle and deep rhythm. He wanted to make him feel good, like there was no other reality than the one between them within the room. A blanket of platinum scattered across the both of them. It caught the moonlight from the window above the bed, and was just as soft as the skin in Ichigo’s hands. He wrapped the arm under Hoki’s head around his chest, bending him around his own body. This new angle was swiftly taken advantage of, the blond’s eyes rolling back in their sockets when his insides were caressed in a different way.

With each thrust, Ichigo pulled nearly all the way out and sank back in to the base. It was a hypnotic pace, bringing both of them dangerously close to a breaking point.

“Fuck…” Hoki hissed through his fingers, “Please don’t stop.” Ichigo mumbled something against his shoulder, trying to stave off his own approaching orgasm. He carried on, unconsciously quickening a little as his body overtook his mind.

Hoki stiffened in his arms, closing tight around the cock inside him as he tried desperately to contain his sounds. Ichigo couldn’t hold on for much longer and pulled out, quickly grasping at Hoki’s thighs to pull them together. A little begrudgingly, he replaced the blond’s warm insides with the tight crevice of his thighs but even those heavenly pillows were enough to finish him off.

He couldn’t help himself anymore and bit down onto Hoki’s shoulder as he came, making the insides of his thighs slick. Hoki groaned in his hazy state, a hand shooting from out of the bunched blanket to snake behind Ichigo’s head and cling onto the hair at the nape of his neck. It wasn’t until a good few moments into his comedown did he hear Hoki’s whimpering, and released his jaw, kissing and licking at the fresh bite mark apologetically.

“Shit, m’sorry.” he all but panted, looking down to just about see the fresh blossoming red welts. Hoki hummed and raked his nails weakly down Ichigo’s neck before becoming a limp body on the bed. They stayed there for a long minute, both catching their breath and trying to regain the will to move and clean up. Handily, Hoki kept a stash of wipes in his bedside table for just such an occasion.

They didn’t say anything to each other for a while, and when Hoki finally moved off of the bed to retrieve his underwear, he’d expected to have his own clothes tossed to him and have to move back to his own room. He knew how these sorts of things went, he was just sort of glad it didn’t mean a walk home in the cold this time.

“What side?”

The question shook him out of his thoughts as he struggled for a second to find Hoki’s bare body in the dark.

“Huh?”

“The bed.” The blond pointed and rubbed at his tired eyes with the other hand, “What side?”

“Oh. Uh…” Ichigo dumbly looked down and found himself on the roughed-up right side of the bed, “…right?” He heard Hoki give a small laugh and figured he must have looked as if the bed had suddenly caught fire.

“Good, I’m always on the left.”

Hoki more or less fell back into bed, mustering the last of his strength to cover the both of them with the sheets. No sooner than that did Ichigo find himself almost laid completely on, and once again finding that hair laying just… everywhere. ‘How do you even function with that much hair?’ he thought, absent-mindedly picking a lock up to weigh in his hand. It wasn’t light at all but still slipped out of his palm like silk, actually making a barely audible thud on the matress.

“You’ll tangle it.” a tiny voice muttered against his chest. Ichigo breathed out a quiet chuckle, trying not to move too much.

“I don’t think that’s possible.” Hoki laughed again.

“Won’t be saying that when I make you comb it all in the morning.”


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ichigo knows now more than he knew before, and he kinda wishes he didn't. Sometimes blissful ignorance is... blissful.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm actually incapable of writing an Ichigo that's able to catch a break. Poor lad.

Sunlight screamed through the uncovered windows, threatening to cook Ichigo’s uncovered back. He’d tried to ignore it in his half conscious state but it was beginning to get unbearable. Time was an unknown variable in his sleepy equations and, cracking open an unwilling eye, he made an uneducated guess that it was somewhere in the vicinity of 8:00am. Maybe 8:30am. It was usually around this time when his body clock would wake him up naturally.

He groaned as he lifted his torso a few inches off the warm, plush, welcoming bed and scanned his room as best he could with blurred vision. His room. This was not his room.

‘Right.’ he thought, grimacing when the blood rushed to his head just to make it ache, ‘Last night happened.’

Hoki was nowhere to be found and his side of the bed was cold. ‘Must be an early riser too. Didn’t hear an alarm.’ His stomach growled then, and he desperately hoped someone else was up. Even though he knew he could probably just go and get something to eat, it still felt impolite to root through someone else’s refrigerator.

He dressed lazily, only to meander into his own room to undress again and shower. Out of his bag he fished a tank and some sweats and hoped there wasn’t a ‘no shoes, no service’ rule for breakfast.

Downstairs was quiet, understandably so since it would have been hard to make this place seem lively with only four people considering its sheer size, except for Ikkaku who leaned against the breakfast bar checking his pager. In his other hand, a fork shovelled an unsafe amount of pancakes into his mouth.

“Finally decided to join the livin’ again, eh?” the third-seat called when he spotted an orange mess descend the staircase, “You look like shit.”

“Didn’t think choking on pancakes was much of a warriors’ death.” Ichigo retorted.

“Heh, what a way to go, though.” Another huge bite was devoured. Ichigo began searching for his phone, which he assumed still lay forgotten on the sofa. “Yumichika told me about last night.”

Ichigo froze for a second with his hand in between the sofa seats. There was a flatness about his tone, and he thought about his next words.

Should he deny it? Maybe Hoki didn’t like stuff like this getting around. Ichigo wasn’t even sure if he did, either. Then again, if Ikkaku knew, then Yumichika knew. And if Yumichika knew, then Hoki had probably told him. ‘Told’ was probably wrong- he was probably coaxed into admitting it, if he knew the fifth-seat. Was it weird if he owned up to it?

“Uh… yeah. What about it?” Ichigo said, albeit a little defensively. He’d stopped his search for the moment, standing back up to see Ikkaku looking at him seriously.

“Don’t go thinking that I care about what you do in your free time, for a start. But there’s somethin’ you should know if you’re gonna be pullin’ shit like that.” Ichigo could almost feel his hero complex come to life. No wonder Hoki felt the way he did if people treated him as if he came with a set of rules and regulations.

“Maybe you should just cut him some slack.” Ichigo bit back, “Seems like his life his hard enough without idiots like you making it harder.” He hadn’t expected Ikkaku to be one of _those_ people, but he had to assume it was Yumichika that carried the empathy for the both of them. The third-seat bristled visibly but barked out a disbelieving laugh.

“You’re a ballsy fucker now, aint’cha?” Ikkaku said incredulously, “Know how many people I’ve knocked out for just looking at him wrong? I’ve fought along side that kid for years, long before they shoved him in this fuckin’ daycare, and you can’t fight with someone you don’t know inside and out. So cool it, hero. It’s not about that.”

Ichigo’s flame fizzed out rather pathetically, and now he just felt bad on all sides. Having a searing drive to protect was all well and good but when it was misplaced, Ichigo couldn’t help but be embarrassed.

“Right… sorry.” He idlly palmed the back of his head, “So, what was it?” Ikkaku regarded him for a moment as if to check that the gusto had definitely left him, not one to let himself be talked at like that very often. Considering that it was Ichigo, he let it slide for now.

“Least your heart’s in the right place.” he muttered, turning half of his attention back to his pancakes, “Just thought you should know that he’s seeing someone. Has been for a while.”

Ichigo felt a cold pit in his stomach open up. Not in a disappointed ‘why couldn’t it be me?’ way, but rather that cold guilt you felt when you know you’ve done something you really shouldn’t have. Hoki hadn’t mentioned anything, or at least Ichigo couldn’t remember if he had.

“Look like yer about to pass out.” Ikkaku said around a mouth of food, “Chill out. It’s one of them… things.” He gesticulated about with his fork, searching for what Hoki had told him so long ago. “Y’know, when you’re with someone but not.” Ichigo was only really half listening, the most of his hearing drowned out by a high-pitched ringing. He didn’t need this at all. Not only had he agreed to go on some crazy hollow hunting mission when he was supposed to be putting a dent in his mountain of schoolwork, now he’d gone and gotten himself in deep shit with someone’s longtime other half. Ichigo was considering making for the door, at this point. He was pretty fast.

Ikkaku was beating his brow with the blunt end of the fork before it hit him, “I got it! It’s an open relationship.”

“Huh?” Ichigo was snatched out of his increasingly morbid thoughts, whipping his head to look over at Ikkaku again like he’d grown a second head. “Like-” The third-seat dismissed him with the fork.

“Don’t ask me how it works, I stopped listening after that.”

Ichigo was saved by the thinnest possibility on the planet- Hoki was in an open relationship. He exhaled audibly, feeling the pit in his stomach let up.

“Thank god.” Ichigo breathed, bracing his arms on the table as his head spun from his rapidly shifting emotions. He was overly aware of how Ikkaku was smirking at him and tried to regain some form of a grasp on his masculinity again. “At least that saves me from having to fight some random guy.” Ikkaku laughed again and Ichigo finally put the right word to it- menacing.

“Don’t worry Ichigo, I’m sure you’ll get the chance to fight him again at some point.”

That dissipated Ichigo’s relief by about half. Again? Had he met the guy without even knowing it?

“Do I know him?”

“Oh yeah, definitely.” It was more than clear that Ikkaku was loving every second of seeing Ichigo ride this rollercoaster. “You haven’t forgotten the Captain already, have you? I know it’s been a while but you’ll break his heart.”

Aaaand there it was. Ichigo’s little coaster cart wheeled right off the side of the tracks; he actually had to sit down in one of the dining chairs. Of all the people in the world. Of every single soul in the Seireitei, of every person in the world of the living, of every soul reaper, lieutenant and _Captain_ in the Gotei 13. Of course, it had to be Kenpachi.

Ichigo laid his forehead against the cool wood. He thought of all of the awkward conversations he’d ever had to have in his life. He remembered coming out to his family and friends was nothing like he thought it was gonna be, or rather what all of the sad stories on TV had led him to believe. Nothing but smiles and acceptance. He remembered when his dad had given him The Talk when he was younger, and, while he’d wanted nothing more than to disappear in a wisp of smoke, his dad had been so enthusiastic in teaching his son ‘the ways of the world’. That made it even weirder, but they had ended up laughing together by the end.

There was an equation floating through Ichigo’s head: if he combined the situation he was in, which was awkward enough by itself, with the one person in all of the three worlds who held the highest tally in trying to kill him… The answer was physically frying his brain the more he thought about it.

Ichigo now had a new life goal; to avoid that interaction at all costs.

“Don’t worry about it, big guy,” Ikkaku all but swaggered past, giving Ichigo a hearty smack between his shoulders, “You’ve still until tomorrow before he gets here.”

Illusions of masculinity were out of the window now, and Ichigo actually whined with his face against the table. All of a sudden, he jolted in his chair, almost knocking the damn thing and himself in it over.

“Wait what? He’s coming here?” Ikkaku had now got his hands on a bowl of cereal, and muttered a ‘mhm’ through another mouthful. How could someone eat so much so early in the morning?

“Comes down whenever he can for conditioning.” Ichigo was visibly confused, and could feel frown lines forming on his face from the last 24 hours, “It’s something Hoki has to do every month or something. Makes sure he doesn’t flip his shit if he breaks a dish. I’ve never seen it done but apparently it can take hours.”

Whether it was morbid curiosity or not, Ichigo couldn’t deny that he wanted to see what someone looks like when they go through an episode. He guessed that Ikkaku did too from the way he spoke about it.

At that moment the front door opened, followed by copious amount of rustling. Yumichika stepped sideways through the door, arms delicately holding an uncountable number of those hard-walled bags only obtainable from expensive stores. Behind him was Hoki tentatively tapping his foot about to find the doorframe behind a stack of boxes that almost didn’t fit through it.

“Didn’t see anything you liked, huh?” Ikkaku said, immediately assaulting the fifth-seats bags in a hurried search. He was promptly shooed and batted away, and Yumichika placed the bags down on the table next to Ichigo’s head which still lay on the tabletop.

“I’m not really a ‘summer clothes’ person, and that’s all that the stores are stocking right now, so I just picked up some essentials.” Yumichika said as he rooted through the one bag that didn’t look like it would make you a target for a mugging on the street. Out of it he pulled a tall can which was promptly tossed to Ikkaku. “My wardrobe here is sorely lacking so I thought I’d replace it.”

“It didn’t start as a shopping trip, if you can believe that.” Hoki’s voice was strained as he attempted to place the tower of boxes down without agitating the ones at the top. “I stepped on some glass on the way to the café and split my sneakers. Yumichika insists I get some nicer ones, one thing leads to another and-” he gestured to the mess the two of them had now created of the dining space, “-this.”

“Divine intervention, I say. They were past their time anyway.”

“Damn. They were my favourite.” Hoki looked down at the shiny new sneakers on his feet, making an overly sad puppy-dog face.

“Do the stores even open this early?” Ichigo wondered aloud, earning him three sets of weird looks.

“Ichigo, sweetheart,” Yumichika put a soft hand on his shoulder, and gave him that look that you give a toddler when they present you with the world’s worst macaroni artwork, “It’s 2pm.”

The straw that broke the camel’s back.

Ichigo scrubbed his face with his hands. Hard. Maybe he’d just go back to bed.

After a hard-earned cigarette Hoki had told the group that he’d go over the briefing around 7-ish, so there was still time in the day to waste.

Ichigo decided to take the chance to explore the Foothold in its entirety. There was no third floor in sight but the stairwell to the bedrooms sat next to another flight that led downwards. He figured this was as good a place to start as any.

The first sub-floor began with a long stretch of empty hallway, with two double doors on either side. One set led into a pristine infirmary, most likely never used. There was everything a medic could ever dream of in the many cabinets and cupboards, along with a few things Ichigo couldn’t even think of a use for.

The other doors revealed a standalone barracks training room, kitted out in a fully traditional style. The tatami looked untouched and kind of dusty, and still fully-put together training dummies lined the walls on each side. No marks from flyaway blades, no scuffs or dents in the wood, it was as if it was frozen in time. He’d seen squad infantry train before and knew that a well used, or even a gently used training grounds couldn’t possibly ever be in this condition.

Another floor down saw him into an even longer hallway with one set of heavy looking doors on the left, and two on the right. Having to stand up on his toes to see through the small glass panes, Ichigo peered into the impossibly large room. The training hall had been big, but even the light from the hallway couldn’t penetrate far into the darkness within this room.

It looked… science-y. Tubes, diodes, screens, the full package. It reminded him of that weird 12th Division, the one that had tried to flag hims down countless times during his visits to the Soul Society. He had no doubt in his mind that he was probably at the top of their wanted list for whatever awful experiments they could conjure up. Just the thought made him shiver.

The rest of his exploring was mostly uninteresting, finding a cluttered office and a room that looked more like an overgrown man-cave than anything else. Ichigo was about to make his way back to the living space, stepping back to the stairs when he found a hatch laying flush in the space where another set of stair may have been.

Opening a door to look inside was one thing, but forcing a hatch open felt like a little more invasive. Thankfully the it had a small window and looking through, he could see bright light, almost like sunlight, hitting a large grassy floor far below the metal hatch. He simply had to assume it was a fabricated underground space like the one under Urahara’s shop or else he’d probably go insane thinking about how one goes about growing healthy-looking grass that far underground.

Again he walked back to the staircase, still peering at the hatch door. He’d snatched his head up just out of time to see a walking stack of papers collide with his face. When the papers parted in a magnificent firework-like spectacle, Ichigo saw the surprised face of Hoki falling forwards towards his equally surprised one. There was a quickly yelled ‘Shit!’ before their foreheads smacked together, and Hoki promptly toppled onto Ichigo, bowling them both over onto the hard floor.

“You’ve got a really hard head.” Ichigo groaned, now splayed on his back. He looked down at the body spread haphazardly on his own, “You alright?”

Hoki whined and pushed himself up onto his arms, “Think so.” They helped each other up, laughing over their matching red marks, and began collecting the mass of papers scattered on the floor. Ichigo couldn’t help but skim his eyes over the papers he picked up and noticed that nearly every paper was stamped with the same yarrow insignia belonging to the 11th.

“Is this _all_ squad paperwork?” Ichigo said incredulously, and Hoki just grimaced and nodded.

“Squad eleven isn’t really famous for its penmanship, so anyone who can read AND write gets put with the paperwork.”

Ichigo tapped together another bundle of papers. The top one was a written list of weekly expenses dated around a month ago. The amount of uniforms ordered for replacement was staggering.

“Shouldn’t, yknow, Kenpachi, _the captain of the squad,_ be doing all this?”

“Well… technically, yeah, but can you honestly imagine him sat behind a desk for…” Hoki waved both hands in the direction of the documents, “…all this?” Ichigo made a face of reluctant agreement and put the last of the papers onto the stack. “I go over the papers, sign what needs to be signed, date what needs to be dates, then the Captain stamps them with his seal, and I send them back off to the Seireitei to be processed. Rinse and repeat. I can barely even get him to sit still just to stamp them.”

“Sounds tedious.” Hoki made a sound in agreement. This time they both safely picked up half and carried on down the hallway. Hoki toed open the door to the office, holding it long enough for Ichigo to step inside. Both stacks of documents were put neatly on the least cluttered end of a large desk that was already covered with paper to begin with.

With a heavy dose of reluctance, Ichigo decided to corner this perfect moment as soon as it came.

“Hey, um… Can I talk to you for a minute?” Hoki glanced at him strangely as he cleared the desk.

“Sure. What’s on your mind?”

“It’s about… the other night.” Ichigo was already done with this conversation before it had started. Hoki’s hands slowed to a stop, and he smiled as if he knew exactly what was coming.

“Yeah, I thought it might.” Hoki put the paper aside and leaned against the desk. His face screamed sympathy, but also the sense that he’d been in this conversation before. Ichigo powered on before his fight or flight senses kicked in and he turned tail.

“I just wanted to ask… just for, y’know, my own sanity…” he struggled to piece together what he was trying to convey. He wasn’t afraid of the 11th Captain in the slightest, he just needed to know if he should expect to have to defend himself in the next day or so.

“You wanna know if there’s a huge target on your back.” Ichigo’s face reddened slightly at how ridiculous it sounded coming out of someone else’s mouth but it _was_ kind of a genuine concern, “The answer’s no. You’re safe.”

He breathed out the breath he’d accidentally been holding and rubbed the back of his neck- his nervous habit he hadn’t been able to shake.

“Sorry. I didn’t know about you and him until Ikkaku told me.” Hoki chuckled, not appearing phased by Ichigo’s awkward approach of the subject.

“No-one does, and Ikkaku’s big mouth has gotten me in trouble a few times. He just likes to run his mouth and make people squirm.” Hoki carried on fixing up the still messy desk and spoke again in a more serious tone, “It’s not exactly legal either so I’m trusting you not to go spreading it around.”

“Laws actually go that deep in the Soul Society?” Ichigo said, helping with the clearing despite not knowing where anything was supposed to go.

“They have to. There’d be a riot if it came out that a Captain was picking favourites.”

“Makes sense, I guess.”

At last a workable space was cleared on the wooden surface leaving Hoki to slump down onto the large office chair, dwarfed by its sheer size, and cross his legs underneath him comfortably

“It’ll probably take me a few hours to get through all this but I should be done by 7.” He said this as if he himself didn’t believe it as he let his hair down out of its tie, re-doing it into a haphazard bun, “I’ll do the briefing in here where I can get at the computer since my printer broke. Can you let those two know for me?”

“Sure.” Ichigo assured and took this as his cue to leave, turning back as he neared at the door, “You need any food bringing down?”

Hoki smiled and waved him away, brush pen already in hand and dipped in ink, “That’s sweet. I’ve got rice in the cooker, I’ll grab some later.”


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hoki briefs the team on their mission, and invites Ichigo to a friendly spar.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just a short one, not much in here but exposition. still kinda unreal that people are actually reading this, i cant put the crying emoji since i'm on a laptop but its there in spirit, tyvm!!

“I’m sure you’re all wondering why I gathered you here.” 

Hoki had managed to finish the paperwork just minutes to 7pm, appearing devoid of the will to live when Ikkaku, Yumichika and Ichigo entered the study. There was confusion painted across his face, along with some rubbings of ink, before he gasped dramatically and weaved through the three of them to race up the stairs. A minute later he re-emerged into his office with what looked like a bowl of liberally seasoned rice and a pair of chopsticks. 

Now he stood in front of his cohorts, pacing the room dramatically like a poorly-written movie villain. From his spot leaned against the desk, Ikkaku tossed a balled up sheet of paper at his head. 

“No.” 

“I hope that was your payslip.” Hoki quipped, shovelling the last of the rice into his mouth like a starving dog and setting his bowl aside, “Whatever. Now that you’ve ruined the moment, Ikkaku,” a pointed glare, “I’ll get on with the brief.”

“Last month, someone in Squad 13 reported a weirdly high amount of hollows appearing near the forests in the west of town. Something else he mentioned in his report was that they all looked very similar.” While he spoke, Hoki flicked the lights off and switched the projector on that hung from the ceiling, “Here’s the ‘artist’s depiction’ I’ve been ordered to include.”

It was… bad, in a word. On the pull-down projector screen was a very crude sketch of what Ichigo assumed was the hollow. It was vaguely, VERY vaguely, shaped like some weird mix of a bull and and an ape. It’s mask was adorned with six long, curled horns, while its body looked like it was hunched over on massive arms. It was all a little hard to tell from the …creative-ness of the drawing, but the essentials were there.

“He described it as ‘the ugliest fucker I’ve ever seen in all my years’ and ‘looked like it would’ve bent me in half for looking at it wrong’.” Hoki surveyed his audience and held his notes out, “Really, it’s in the report. Anyway, he also reported that it wasn’t actually aggressive at all, and apparently it let him come within 20 feet before it retreated back into the woods.”

Ikkaku made a noise of disgruntlement.

“You’re talkin’ weird.” Hoki was shook out of what must have been some sort of flow with the presentation. 

“Huh?”

Yumichika smacked his squadmate on the shoulder, “Let him finish the presentation! I doubt you could do a better job.” He motioned to Hoki with a flourish. “Carry on, Hoki, you’re doing great.”

Hoki’s stare wasn’t fixed on anything in particular as he reshuffled his notes, “…Alright. After the first sighting, Captain Kurotsuchi had cameras put near the area and kept a close eye on their activity. For a little while, nothing really happened. A few would come out, walk around for a bit, and head back into the forest. Nothing too suspicious. After a week or so they started getting braver and started sniffing round a bigger radius. Right now, its close to the residential limit but they’ve never gone further than that.”

Another slide passed onto the projector screen. A four way split of monochromatic images, each with dated surveillance camera overlays. One showed the edge of the woods, and the other three were similar views from different places within where the trees and foliage thickened. Ichigo knew those woods, he’d been on countless walks there with friends and family alike. The idea that somewhere he’d been so many times and knew so well wasn’t safe anymore made his skin prickle.

“From evolving reports and surveillance, they managed to get more cameras placed where the things were seen, and they ended up in a circle. This tells us that we can reasonably expect to find the mass of their numbers where the cameras converge.”

“So why hasn’t anyone gone in there and killed the fuckers yet?” Ikkaku voiced his query haughtily, somewhat implying that it couldn’t be too hard of a job. Hoki appeared a little remorseful as he switched notes and forwarded the slideshow.

“A week and a half ago, a forward team was sent in to cull them before they could get too big, at Captain Ukitake’s request.” He glanced over to the slide, which showed several file photos of soul reapers, all from Squad 13. “None of them made it back.”

Ikkaku pulled back in a heavy silence. There was something of a quiet moment shared for the fallen soul reapers, even if no-one in the room was personally acquainted with them. More so out of respect. Ichigo let the long seconds pass, before putting in his own input when he felt it was right to do so.

“If they’ve lost that many men already, why not send someone stronger?” 

“Central 46 started sending a few scouts from Squad 2 to try and find out what had happened to them so we could be better prepared. When they went near the epicentre…” The blond swallowed, and seemed to have to will himself to show the next slide.

Even in black and white, and poor quality, the image made Ikkaku rise to his feet and Yumichika place a hand to his chest. Ichigo’s stomach twisted at what he saw, and there was no mistake about what it was.

One of the hollows was moving towards a small crater in the earth, its huge upper body pressed forwards onto its fists. In its mouth it carried a soul reaper, dirty and bloodied from presumably a harsh fight. If someone had barely glanced at the image, they would have written that body off as dead immediately from the way the legs were dangling lifelessly. 

Everyone in that room knew in an instant he was still alive in its maw. His head was raised, mouth distorted into a pained cry, and one remaining arm was reaching upwards at the hollow’s horns.

“Their spiritual pressure is still active, every one of them. It’s very weak but its there.” Hoki had to tear his eyes away from the screen, and it was clear on his face that he’d stared at the image before, “They’re still alive in there.” 

“So why the fuck hasn’t anyone dealt with it yet?!” Ikkaku growled. Clearly Hoki was sympathetic with his squadmate but stayed passive for the sake of an uncomplicated briefing.

“Their pressures are so weak, no-one can figure out what’s happening in there. We have no solid evidence to tell us why they’re being kept alive. That’s where we come in. This case has been put forward as a search and destroy as of two days ago, and Central 46 aren’t expecting it to be a rescue mission. However, since this is my briefing, I’m proposing that we do everything we can to rescue them.” 

Ichigo absorbed all of the information put towards him, understanding that he’d do the same even if it was his friend’s dad’s mechanic. It didn’t matter who it was, if he was honest with himself, any reason was enough.

“So where do we come into this?” he asked, leaning onto his elbows from his seat in the desk chair he’d pulled around.

“The last of the directives say that we’re just to poke around for now and see what we can learn. After that, we’re effectively on our own and can act as we see fit. As long as those hollows are completely dealt with, Central 46 don’t care how it gets done.” Hoki ended the slideshow and flicked the lights back on, causing all four to wince as their eyes had to readjust. “The mission was originally only for you three but I’m coming along too because obviously I am.”

Ikkaku eyed the blond sceptically but it was laced with concern, “Ya sure that’s a good idea? You haven’t been out in the field for a while.”

“I’ll be fine. My conditioning’s early tomorrow so I should be alright. I won’t be at my peak but I’ll be running support from the outside, and if I get into any trouble we’ll have the Captain with us, too.” 

Hoki explained a few other answers to questions Ichigo and his squadmates had after that. One was that the only reason they knew the hollows were breeding was because some of the sightings involved small packs of them consisting of one large beast with a few smaller, less powerful looking ones moving as a group. The larger one seemed to exhibit behaviour similar to a parent caring for its young. 

As helpful as the extra info was, Ichigo didn’t like to think that there were hollows that could have familial instincts. It made them too… real, like a pack of deer just trying to survive. He had to remind himself that the existence of hollows was inherently harmful to anything around them, animals and people alike. 

“The first phase will be at night.” Hoki said as he shut down his computer, “You three’ll be running point and getting into the pit as far as you can without alerting the hollows. It’s all touch and go right now so I’ll be with you on comms from the outside, and the Captain is hanging back as a last resort if things turn ugly.” The blond took his cigarette packet as he spoke and flicked the bottom, one cigarette popping out neatly. He tucked it behind his ear. “I have faith that you can be stealthy, and we don’t want to rile these things up so the Captain's really a last, last resort. We don’t know what these things have planned, or if they’re planning anything at all, so we can’t risk an invasion we’re not equipped to deal with.”

“There ya go talkin’ weird again.” Ikkaku complained and rapped his knuckles on Hoki’s forehead, “Don’t like hearin’ you talk about serious stuff. It’s… unnerving.” The blond recoiled playfully, a smirk gracing his features.

“I’ll be sure to talk more shit in the future, Mr. Third-seat.” Hoki dipped in a deep, mocking bow along with the title. When he rose, making sure to take note of Ikkaku’s twitching brow, he pulled his cigarette to his lips and let it hang precariously. “Rest up, train up, whatever you need to do. Training ground’s open as always so do what you need to. Ichigo, you know where it is, right? Near the stairs?”

“Yeah, I had a look around earlier.” Ichigo said, standing out of the chair to stretch his stiff legs. Hoki ushered everyone to the office door before closing it behind him and locking it. 

“Feel free to head in whenever. Every door in here stays unlocked except this one.” he said, patting the study door, “I spend most of my time down there anyway so that’s where you’ll find me most days. Oh, that reminds me! If it isn’t too much trouble, I wanna go a few rounds with you. See how you and your zanpakuto fight.” 

Not the strangest request Ichigo had ever gotten, and he thought it’d be good to blow off some steam if he was supposed to be keeping a low profile during the mission. It wouldn’t do well to be going into the hollow’s territory rusty.

“Sounds good. I could use some time to train, I’ve not had pull out Zangetsu in a while.” Ichigo said as they both climbed the stairs after Ikkaku and Yumichika. 

“I don’t get many chances to spar with physical people so I have to take my opportunities where I can get ‘em. Jatai and I spar often but it’s good to have a varied diet.” They both reached the main floor living area and already the smell of beer and wine had permeated the air. “I’ll be down the hatch early tomorrow so I’ll meet you in there.” Hoki offered a somewhat cheesy thumbs up before pacing off towards the back door.

Once again Ichigo was left to his own devices, not really knowing what to do with himself. He tried to loosen up after that rather heavy briefing, still trying to shake that blurry black and white image out of his mind. In the end, he decided to grab some of the leftover rice still in the cooker, an apple from the fruit bowl, and placed himself on the sofa adjacent to the third and fifth-seats. A movie played on the TV, but he couldn’t discern what was actually happening in it.

Eventually the rice sat heavy enough in his stomach to almost knock him clean out right there on the sofa, and he headed to bed for an early night and hopefully an earlier start tomorrow.


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ichigo is invited to assist with today's session, but still has absolutely no clue what's going on.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> bit of a long one cause i couldn't figure out where to split it into two, a lot of fighting. pls lmk if my writing is anywhere near readable <3

“Can’t you just stay here?” Ichigo sighed frustratedly, pulling at the red sling across his front that held Zangetsu to his back.

He’d woken up at around 8am, showered, eaten a light breakfast, and very reluctantly gone back up to his room to retrieve Kon from out of his crumpled pocket. He did feel bad for him, having to stay confined to that pill for most of his life, and figured he would let him stretch his legs in his body while Ichigo trained. He hadn’t, however, expected Kon to want to follow him down to the training ground. Ichigo had explained very clearly that he wasn’t allowed to leave the Foothold as he didn’t even know if he’d be able to get back in because of the kido barrier.

Obviously, Kon was less than pleased with his playpen boundaries and immediately threw a hissy fit.

“And what, just sit downstairs for a few hours and watch mindless TV?!” Kon said it as if it were the worst idea he’d ever heard, “Absolutely not! We’re a team, Ichigo, and where you go, I go!” Sometimes Ichigo didn’t know where he got his ideas from.

“First of all, no. Second of all, I don’t even know what to expect down there. What if you get my body mangled? I have to live in it, you know. I don’t need any more scars.” Kon looked at Ichigo as if he were a complete moron, waving his concerns away.

“Are you kiddin’ me, Ichigo? This is my body too, y’know. I’m not just gonna throw it around like an idiot!” Ichigo didn’t even know where to begin with how wrong that string of words was, but Kon had managed to keep himself out of harm’s way before. He also knew that were wasn’t really much room for an argument with the mod soul from past experience. When Kon wanted something, he’d usually get it even if the whole world was against him. Maybe the two had more in common than Ichigo had considered before.

“Fine,” he relented, but gave Kon a stern look, “but you _stay_ on the sidelines, you hear me?”

Kon all but leapt off the bed with a renewed gusto, just happy that he wouldn’t have to idle around for hours on end waiting to just be pushed out of Ichigo’s body once again.

The substitute soul reaper sighed again, already regretting his decision to let him follow.

Together they descended the stairs until they came upon the square hatch embedded in the flooring. It clicked open with a firm tug and Ichigo hauled it the rest of way open with little effort. A pleasantly grass scented gust of air whipped out of the opening and fluttered his hair about, and accompanying it was a semi-familiar ebb of spiritual pressure.

Ichigo dropped through the hatch, not bothering to make sure Kon could make it down. He’d seen him mount a five storey building in one stride before, he’d be fine. He landed softly on the grass, craning his neck around to get a good look at the place.

It was reminiscent of a wide open field in the sun. There were no trees, and the walls gave the illusion that it went on forever. The trick was cleverly done, and Ichigo would have to remind himself that there wasn’t unlimited space lest he get too caught up in the moment and run face first into a wall. The end closest to the hatch was decorated with a small pond surrounded by variously sized stones and rocks perfect for perching on.

The air inside the room was fresh, as if it were being pumped directly from the outside. It even carried the smell of inevitable hayfever which he really hoped was just simulated.

Ichigo carried on scanning until he found three others on the other side of the wide open area. One was Hoki, sat cross legged on the ground next to what appeared to be his gigai, who sat somewhat neater in seiza. The other, sat on the rock next to the real Hoki, he identified quickly as his own personal worst nightmare. With his head rested in one hand, and appearing dangerously bored, was the Captain of Squad 11, Kenpachi Zaraki.

Kon stopped his own wild spinning in examination of the landscape to peer over Ichigo’s shoulder, “Isn’t that the guy who tried to kill you that one time?”

“More than once.” Ichigo sighed, moving towards them with Kon in tow.

Hoki turned to face him and perked with a wave, jumping to his feet and brushing off his uniform. It was a standard issue shihakusho for the most part, the main differences being that his sleeves were tied up with a white tasuki and his hakama were tucked into tight, black bands that covered his lower legs. Underneath he also wore a bodysuit that came up to his neck and down his arms, ending in gloves that only covered the palms. He wore his platinum hair in a big, flowing ponytail high on his head that hung down to his lower back.

As Ichigo came closer, he could also get a good look at the zanpakuto that hung low on his hips. The sheath was black and… kind of short. Longer than a dagger for sure, but definitely not a full length katana. It’s handle was threaded with an almost golden colour and the guard had six points to it. Ichigo had learned the hard way not to judge an opponent by their weapon but put a note in the back of his mind to expect close-range attacks.

“That’s quite the conversation starter you’ve got there.” Hoki joked as he approached, circling around Ichigo to get a good look at his zanpakuto. “Now I’m _really_ interested to see if you can swing it.” The comment was lightly put but it started to show the blond’s Squad 11 moxy in a clearer light. Ichigo rarely got the opportunity for pre-battle banter that wasn’t purely consistent of actual death threats, but he’d be damned if he wasn’t going to shoot his own shot.

“I’d say the same but…” he reinforced his words by slyly glancing down to Hoki’s own sword.

“Ha!” Hoki barked and folded his arms, somewhat surprised by Ichigo’s comeback, “Insulting the size of a man’s zanpakuto, and in my own home, no less!” The blond’s spiritual pressure began to rise at that, puffing outwards but with a tempered edge. Ichigo smirked and responded with his own flare of pressure, more than happy to partake in a good-natured measuring contest.

“Put your feathers down, Kurosaki.” Ichigo hadn’t even noticed Kenpachi approach but suddenly there he was, towering at Hoki’s shoulder and still as imposing as ever. “You wanna get at least a few hits in, don’tcha?”

“As long as it’s not you I’m fighting, I’ll gladly take a thousand hits.” Ichigo wasn’t looking to have his life in any real danger for at least another year, and prayed that the Squad 11 ‘one-on-one’ mentality extended to it’s Captain. Kenpachi bristled and began to reach for his sword, his face already cracked in a sharp, trademark smirk.

“Might not have much of a choice.”

Hoki held his hands up between the two, suddenly eager to not see his training grounds in a smouldering wreck. He knew firsthand how quickly things seemed to escalate when the Captain was involved, and how much paperwork followed after each incident. Even Captains weren’t immune to bureaucracy.

“Okay, no more banter. I can only keep face for about half a minute before I run out of witty lines.”

There was a brief staredown before resolutions became stale and Kenpachi re-sheathed his sword, all at once appearing completely disinterested again. Instead he bore a heavy hand down on Hoki’s shoulder, almost knocking the wind out of him.

“Don’t pull any punches.” he said curtly, and returned to the rock near the gigai. Ichigo turned to Kon, who had near laid an egg by this point, and cocked his head in the same direction.

“Stay over there and don’t mess with anything.” he said sternly, and after a moment of reluctant guffawing Kon relented and dropped himself down next to Hoki’s gigai. The faux-blond hadn’t moved or spoke since they’d come onto the grounds, he just sat there with his hands folded neatly in his lap, staring dreamily and kind of absently into the distance. Kon figured that he wouldn’t be able to get much in the way of conversation out of the gikongan, and settled for leaning back on his arms and observing.

Hoki made the first move to the rough, flattened out center of the grass and Ichigo followed, stopping when they were a fair distance apart.

“You ready?” The blond said, drawing his sword in a single, practised movement. Ichigo nodded, widening his stance and bringing Zangetsu out of its wrappings to hold in front of him with both hands. “First attack goes to the guest. Whenever you’re ready.”

The substitute soul reaper centred himself and darted forwards towards his opponent, intending to bring Zangetsu down in a cross body slash. In the time it took for him to reach Hoki, the blond had gripped his zanpakuto backwards and taken a low stance, striking the flat of his blade against Ichigo’s and following the direction of the swing. The movement deflected Ichigo and made him plant Zangetsu three inches deep into the earth. From his deep crouch, Hoki formed his free hand into a fist with the first two fingers pricked forwards and struck it into Ichigo’s shoulder.

He recoiled, feeling the electric feeling jolt in his arm down to the fingertips to disable them completely. It was so sudden it made him lose his grip on Zangetsu with his left hand, and he quickly skirted back.

“Damn.” he hissed, having to flex his fingers rapidly to bring the feeling back into them, “I thought Squad 11 hated kido.”

The blond shook his head, face crumpling as he did so, “No kido.” He pointed to his own shoulder at the spot he had jabbed Ichigo in, “Pressure points. Really sucks if your opponent knows where they are.”

Ichigo looked at his hand. It was definitely still there but his arm still felt like TV static. He shook his arm from the shoulder joint to get the feeling back into it.

“Your speed is good, Ichigo. I was originally gonna dodge since I didn’t think you’d be able to swing that fast.” Hoki said this with no sarcasm at all, and took his own fighting stance again. “Keep your guard up. My turn.”

If a run-of-the-mill, blade-clashing sword fight was a four by four beat, Hoki fought in eighths. He was crazy fast, darting left and right with shunpo faster than Ichigo’s eye could track him. He never held his sword with both hands but swapped it often to keep his opponent on their toes, a technique Ichigo recognised from the few times he’d fought Ikkaku.

With the hand that didn’t hold the sword, he struck disorienting and often disabling blows into the more tender parts of one’s anatomy. Any joint or patch of soft flesh left exposed was fair game in Hoki’s eyes, and he didn’t hesitate to sting his knuckles into Ichigo’s kidney when he’d ducked underneath his horizontal strike. Hoki specialized in bobbing and weaving his way into his opponent’s range and taking them out up close, Ichigo’s dead leg could attest to that.

Ichigo began to find it hard to counter his blows, often tying his own arms in a knot to get Zangetsu close enough to guard with. Hoki was masterfully parrying or avoiding any medium range strike he could throw, but Ichigo was beginning to figure him out.

It was in the times that he held his sword in his right hand. His dominant hand for sure, but it caused his left hand, the one that now fought unarmed, to suffer marginally. A specific moment occured in which Ichigo figured how to use this to his advantage, and waited for Hoki to come at him again.

He initiated his flurry with the sword hand, keeping Ichigo’s zanpakuto away from him while he dove in with the left, this time aiming straight for his solar plexus. In a focused movement, Ichigo brought the hilt of Zangetsu across his body, cracking it against Hoki’s wrist and flicking the fist away from him. The momentum spun the blond’s body outwards and knocked him out of his systematic rhythm of attack.

Time stood still as Hoki felt the sharp edge of a blade against the back of his neck, held back with precision timing. They stood panting, both locked in their positions before he cracked a smile and laughed.

“You got me.” he said as he loosened up, sheathing Jatai and rolling his shoulders. “You’re good, Ichigo. Not a trained soldier for sure, but you’ve got awfully good form.”

“I just do what feels natural, honestly.” Ichigo half confessed, placing Zangetsu to his back and wincing when his shoulder still twinged, sending another jolt down to his fingers, “God, my shoulder feels… weird.”

“It fades after a while.” Hoki laughed, his face appearing apologetic, “If _that’s_ what natural looks like on you, I think formal zanjutsu training would be overkill. You actually got my wrist pretty good with that parry.” The blond cupped a hand around his wrist, twisting it about in a concerning amount of crackling noise.

“Sorry about that. I think you’d have knocked me out if I didn’t.” It was Ichigo’s turn to smile apologetically, but Hoki shook his head and waved him off both to dismiss his worry and show that his hand was still firmly attatched to his arm.

“Now that we’re warmed up…” The blond was uncharacteristically hesitant in the way he thumbed at the edge of his sleeves, “…Captain’s not gonna be too thrilled about it, but I want you to help with my session today.” Ichigo folded his arms and tried hard not to look outwardly confused. It took a second for him to remember that Hoki wasn’t just down here for a sparring match.

He wasn’t clear on what went into his ‘conditioning’ but he figured if he could assist, it would be rude not to. When the host makes a meal, the guest always does the dishes, and Ichigo figured the same rule applied here too.

“I don’t really know if I’ll be useful, but I’ll help however I can.” he agreed. Hoki was very visibly relieved and called Kenpachi back over. He also called over to his gigai, who still hadn’t moved even a muscle in the time they had took to spar.

“Kama, take-” Hoki looked to Ichigo, presumably for what to call his own gikongan.

“Kon.”

“-take Kon and sit by the pond!”

The blond gigai, still keeping that dreamy gaze fixed on nothing in particular, stood and gently took Kon’s wrist. Kon looked weirdly at the faux-blond, then at Ichigo, but still allowed himself to be led over to the far corner to sit near the reeds in the water feature.

“Still just winning by the skin of your teeth, eh?” Kenpachi jeered as he approached, “Haven’t changed a bit.” One arm hung lazily inside his shihakusho while the other rested on the hilt of his sword. Ichigo just let it go over his head, having learned that it was useless to try and argue with him.

“Ichigo offered to help with today’s session. You can sit this one out.” Hoki said all at once. The Captain’s brow furrowed as he raked his eye across the blond’s face as if it were a joke. When no punchline became present, he simply chuckled.

“You tryna kill him?” Hoki flustered at this, waving his hands about hurriedly.

“No, no! He’ll be fine!” he fumbled, and tried to reassure Ichigo who suddenly had no idea what he’d agreed to, “You’ll be fine, I promise! If things get out of hand, Ken can step in. He’s done this a thousand times!”

“Done… what, exactly?” There was a hint of trepidation in Ichigo’s voice now, but the Captain was too far gone in the idea now.

“Doesn’t matter now, you’ll learn on the job.” he spoke with an excitement that usually meant very bad things, “That’s what you do best, ain’t it?”

Hoki sighed and took a seated spot on the ground, legs folded tightly under him in an open seiza.

“You’ll be fine, honestly.” The blond tried to cement the idea to both Ichigo and himself, placing his hands on his knees in a way that suggested he’d took this position hundreds of times, “Just… _really_ do keep your guard up this time.” It made Ichigo swallow in the way he spoke, as if he himself wasn’t completely sure what was about to happen. He supposed that made two of them.

Hoki breathed out fully and let his eyes slip shut, appearing to meditate as Kenpachi rounded behind him. He’d been chewing the inside of his lip but it tapered off as his body stilled and he entered a semi-serene state in seiza.

“All ya gotta do is stay on your feet, Ichigo. This isn’t a fight.” The Captain spoke almost protectively as he crouched down behind Hoki. Even on the ground he still overshadowed the blond by a few feet. “He’ll go for the throat, if you let him.”

‘Suspicious _and_ concerning.’ Ichigo thought, and made the judgement call that now was probably a good time to bring Zangetsu back out. So it was a fight, but not a fight, and he could fight back, but could only defend? Ichigo was all questions, but he knew no-one was going to answer them in any meaningful way. Once again, he spread his feet apart and held his zanpakuto in front of him as he had done countless times.

Kenpachi gave a small tug at Hoki’s ponytail and, when there was no response, placed a hand on his back. Once he was sure the blond was in a completely meditative state he pushed his spiritual pressure outwards, steadily increasing it to the point that the air around them started to warp and shimmer like the view of the horizon above a hot road.

Hoki’s pressure began to rise too, but in a way Ichigo had never seen before. It began as any other aura of spirit energy, surrounding the owner like a glow. As it became stronger, the edges began to become jagged and hungry almost, spiking into Kenpachi’s own and spreading within it like a cancer. Hoki began to inadvertently turn his Captain’s energy into his own and expand further outwards in such an unstable way that made Ichigo bring his own spiritual pressure tighter to his body to shield himself from it.

A breaking point was reached, and Hoki’s body fell forwards as his pressure lashed to its full strength, almost completely filling the large room. Kenpachi removed his hand and stepped back a few feet, reigning his own spiritual aura back in, and watched carefully with a ready hand on his sword.

Hoki’s body began to convulse, twitching awfully as he rose to his feet after a long minute. Ichigo couldn’t even tell if he was looking at Hoki anymore with the way he moved. There were endless amounts of tears streaming furiously down his face as his rolled-back eyes somehow found and squared onto Ichigo, and he tightened his grip on Zangetsu. Sounds of pain tumbled from his lips uncontrollably, a steady stream of whimpers and groans that varied in pitch and length.

He pulled out his sword in a fluid motion, still watching Ichigo with a predatory glare. Ichigo didn’t want to move, still unsure of what exactly he was seeing. In his mind he thought back to their drunken chatter, when they’d told each other about their respective ailments, and how Hoki had said they’d been through similar states of uncontrolled mania. He then remembered how his friends had described him when he’d been taken over by his hollow- that he was completely and utterly feral.

Ichigo watched Hoki very carefully, his fluttering eyes still boring into him. In a slow, languid movement he brought his sword up, curling his free hand around it’s blade-

-and snapped it in two.

A burst of ever increasing spiritual pressure whipped the grass around his feet in a jagged circle. It was thick and consuming, and Ichigo felt it needling relentlessly at his own barrier of spirit energy. He couldn’t focus on it too much, as the sword halves in Hoki’s hands had begun to morph and change.

They liquefied between his fingers into two white masses, worming over his body in equal parts. They soon found their place at his hands, elbows, knees and feet, re-solidifying into tight, white bandages that wrapped his joints. Hoki, now swordless, crouched to the ground like a coiling spring, and let out an awful howl that ripped through his throat.

He bolted for Ichigo in one stride, face contorted around his cries, and reached out with both hands. The substitute soul reaper brought Zangetsu close, thankful for the wide blade he used to block the grip. The impact rippled through the both of them, a shockwave more forceful than any he’d encountered while they had sparred moments ago.

The blond then tried to strike for Ichigo’s head, and though the strike was dodged by mere inches, the speed at which his fist moved through the air created a thunderclap next to his head that rattled his brain and made his left ear ring. He immediately knew the danger he was in letting Hoki in so close, and mustered what force he could at this range, shoving the flat of Zangetsu’s blade into his chest, forcing him skidding back several meters.

Kenpachi had taken to stalking the circumference of where they fought, eye fixed solely on Hoki’s movements and a hand still on his sword. Ichigo understood that it wasn’t his own wellbeing he was looking out for.

Hoki was relentless. He didn’t tire, and definitely didn’t hold back. Ichigo could only keep up with his defences and dodging, but he was slowly and surely running out of steam. Zangetsu was more of a shield than anything else in his sweating hands, and he felt his blade’s frustrations running through his fingers. They both knew it was a bad idea to turn onto the offensive for a few reasons, and Hoki didn’t deserve to wake up covered in cuts and bruises for something he couldn’t control.

Ichigo barely managed to hold his own for a time, having to fight with his arms tied, but he was running short on adrenaline and his arms began to ache from catching the force of so many quick attacks. Hoki however was still as tenacious as ever and kept coming back from however far Ichigo managed to get him away. Grooves sat deep in the dirt from where he’d caught himself on clawed hands after being thrown, and at this point his exposed fingers were covered in filth and grass stains.

Ichigo had also discovered that Hoki was very good at using his legs as weapons, and learned that his shikai allowed him to throw whatever part of his body he wanted in an attack without the worry of shredded skin or broken joints. It also increased the speed of those attacks by nearly double, giving him eight untiring, lightning fast weapons at his disposal.

Tears still streaked down his reddened face even as he moved with pure bloodlust, seeming to never end. It was as if he’d exploded into a multitude of negative emotions all at once, unconscious and unable to control how they came out. Ichigo could only fight with bleeding sympathy, making it even harder to keep it up for a long stretch of time.

Ichigo had very briefly dropped his guard to wipe the sweat from his forehead, eyes locked onto Hoki’s form laying in the grass where he’d been flung. With barely a beat between the two movements, the blond had pulled his feet underneath him and leapt far into the air. Again he readied Zangetsu, willing his arms not to falter.

Another strained cry from above his head as Hoki reached the peak of his jump, bringing one leg outwards in an overhead heelkick and plummeting down with staggering speed. Ichigo braced his sword above his head and waited for the thunderclap to come bearing down on him.

It didn’t come, not to Ichigo, at least. A quick flash step had put Kenpachi in the line of fire, and he’d simply caught Hoki’s ankle in his hand. The blond now hung upside down a few feet off the ground, snarling and clawing at the hand that gripped him. Ichigo breathed out a heavy breath and fell to one knee, utterly spent.

“Half an hour. You’re tapping out, Kurosaki.”

“I’m fine.” he panted, using his sleeve to wick the sweat out of his eyes, “I can still…” Ichigo was about to claim that he could carry on, but the fallout of running on fumes for so long hit him hard enough that the words trailed off. Instead he looked up at Hoki scrabbling against the vice grip on his ankle, wondering if there was any part of his consciousness still in there.

“Your tank’s empty, idiot.” the Captain bit back, and Ichigo recognised that this was as much help as he was going to get from him. “You’ve only gotta slip up once.” He slid the collar of his shihakusho back a few inches to reveal a hidden scar near the clavicle. It looked like a bite mark, and a deep one.

Ichigo took the hint, and let his exhausted body sit and rest. He watched as Kenpachi then tossed Hoki unceremoniously to the other end of the grounds, and drew his sword.

“Your endurance sucks.” Ah. There was the insult. Ichigo figured the Captain had reached his quota of helpfulness for the day. Still, he could have very well stood back and let Ichigo get mauled, so he supposed that counted for something. “Give it another twenty years and you can tap back in.”

Eventually Ichigo settled back near the pond with Kon, splashing his face and neck with the cool water to calm his hot skin. The spiritual pressure over here was less, and he didn’t realise how sapping it had been being that close until he felt his energy returning to him much quicker.

He watched the ensuing back and forth between Hoki and his Captain. It was almost as if the roles were reversed between them, with the blond being the one bearing down with an endless onslaught of attacks. There was a symbiosis in their exchange, one that forced Kenpachi to curb his usual offensive in favour of carefully calculated blocks, dodges and throws.

Of course, after performing the same routine for years and years, a dancer can make it look effortless. He rarely used his sword, and when he did it was turned blunt side outward to catch incoming strikes and redirect them to somewhere that didn’t involve the rest of his body.

As for Hoki, he was still going strong. His cries and screams became hard to listen to after a time, and Ichigo knew there was a similarity to be drawn between Hoki’s episode and his own ventures into hollowfication.

Ichigo looked over to Kon, who had gathered his knees up to his chest and was watching the fight intently.

“I’ve never heard you this quiet for so long, y’know.” he said to him, seeming to shake him away from his trance-like stare.

“He’s like a machine! Even the guy who almost killed you can’t beat him!” Ichigo felt his brow twinge.

“Okay, just for the record, that was one time and I almost killed him, too. It was a draw. And even so, it’s not about beating him. He can’t control it, so its just about waiting for it to pass. I think.” Truthfully, Ichigo still hadn’t managed to work out the specifics in what was happening, but he assumed that this was why it was called ‘conditioning’- Hoki was conditioning his body to manage his outbursts better. Or something like that. He didn’t want to assume, of course.

Kon hummed in consideration, appearing to be thinking awfully hard. “But why don’t you just tie him down and let him ride it out? Seems a lot easier than this.” Ichigo didn’t have an answer for that, since it was a very valid point. He remembered Urahara explaining to him how Central 46 had Aizen subdued deep within Muken, and about the bands used to inhibit his spirit energy. He guessed that the Soul Society probably wouldn’t be keen in parting with technology like that for someone who wasn’t an apocalyptic threat.

“He’s probably tried a lot of different things. As far as I know, they’ve been doing this for years. I suppose it must work.” Ichigo spent a while explaining to Kon everything he’d been told since he came to the Foothold, which admittedly wasn’t much. About the mission, about what he thought of the premise of the Foothold, and about its only permanent resident.

“Ya think the Captains leave any interesting crap in their rooms?” Kon said, a mischievous glint in his eye. Ichigo very swiftly shut him down.

“Don’t even think about snooping around the bedrooms or I swear I’ll drop your pill down the toilet.” Kon backed off, but it still looked like the thought was pinballing around the bare walls of his mind.

“Still though, weird to think that these high and mighty warriors come here and just… relax like normal people.” Ichigo did agree with the gikongan on some level. Despite his unorthodox relationship with the Soul Society and its many division members, he still had a subordinate’s respect for the higher ranked soul reapers, lieutenants and captains included. These were people that had lived and fought in many more wars than he’d hopefully ever see in his life, and still managed to command a platoon of hundreds while on the front lines themselves.

To think that they also lived relatively normal lives outside of that was a little weird, but everyone always thinks that their boss lives and breathes business 24/7.

Ichigo suddenly felt a stutter in the spiritual pressure in the air, and looked back to where Hoki and Kenpachi continued their back and forth. Nothing seemed to have changed in terms of tenacity except that Kenpachi had now put his sword away, seemingly privy to something Ichigo was not.

Hoki had once again been thrown far from where the Captain stood, his chest heaving now from exertion. No matter how much spirit energy one person could pump out, a body was still a body and had hard limits, even if those limits had been extended way past what the body should be able to handle.

Again he sprang forward, body contorted and hunched forwards as if his centre of gravity now rested in his shoulders. He all but flew across the distance, fingers curled with the intent to grip and tear the first thing he could reach.

Suddenly the spiritual pressure that had been gushing from his body ceased to be. It was as if someone had flipped a switch and cut the circuit. With such a change in pressure, and with the already exhausted state of Hoki’s body, the fourth seat immediately lost consciousness during his charge.

With a widened stance, the Captain caught the limp body careening towards him, skidding back a few feet with the impact. Carefully he lowered him to the floor onto his back and knelt beside him.

Ichigo immediately turned to worrying again as he tried to get over there as fast as he could, body still aching from the exertion. When he reached the scene, he saw Hoki dead to the world in the grass and couldn’t help but think the worst.

“What happened? Is he alright?” Ichigo couldn’t help but ask. The blond was completely comatose, his hair plastered to his face with sweat and tears.

“It passed, he’s fine.” Kenpachi said calmly, checking Hoki’s pulse and turning his head to the side. He didn’t claim to know the intricacies of his condition but he’d been given a list of aftercare for the episodes from the 4th division.

Hoki awoke violently, thrashing about in confusion and fear. Kenpachi held him down by the shoulder and squeezed for reassurance. Once he regained his composure, remembering where he was and who he was with, he blew out a terse breath and let his head drop back onto the grass. Ichigo almost did the same, head-spinning relief flooding his system when his friend seemed to come back from the dead.

“You alright?” the Captain asked, a rare hint of concern in his voice, “Anything broke?” Hoki squeezed his eyes together a few times, squinting in the bright light.

“Don’t think so.” his voice was hoarse and small but he still cracked a smile, “You?”

“The day you break one of my bones’ll be the day I do a crossword puzzle.”

Hoki smiled and closed his eyes again, “Next time for sure.” No sooner than that did his eyes shoot open again and he shot up into a sitting position, locking straight onto Ichigo’s surprised face, a look they mirrored. “Ichigo! Are you alright? You’re not hurt, are you?” he almost yelled, but his body cried out in protest and pain, making him lie down again.

“I’m fine, honestly!” Ichigo replied, unsure who should be worrying about who.

“I knew it was a bad idea.” the blond croaked, holding his throbbing head in his hands.

“It was _your_ idea.” Kenpachi said, but Hoki waved him off.

“Irrelevant.”

Ichigo didn’t really know what to say or do from there. He wanted to make sure Hoki would be alright but knew that Kenpachi had probably been through this countless times and had kept him from kicking the bucket from exhaustion so far.

“Can you walk?” the Captain asked. Hoki tried to roll his feet around but was met with shooting pains in his legs.

“Don’t think so.” Hoki groaned, and turned his head over to look at Kenpachi with big fat puppy eyes. He only sighed.

With a surprising amount of delicacy, he slid an arm under Hoki and hoisted him up into a bridal carry, leaving his legs to dangle uselessly. As soon as he was secured in the Captain’s grip, Hoki immediately used his haori to scrub the tear tracks and grime from his face.

“Asshole.”


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hoki thinks back to when everything in his world changed, except for one thing.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> exposition in the form of a flashback? exposition in the form of a flashback
> 
> this took me SO long to get out cause i decided last minute i wanted to do a flashback to hoki's time in the 11th and it just kind of went sideways from there. been working on this chapter for so long my writing style probably changes halfway thru :( also hoki's a complete sap but he'd never admit it

Hoki’s body hurt all over. His energy was completely and entirely sapped, both spiritual and physical, and even the gentle bobbing of his head with each of Kenpachi’s steps sent shockwaves of raw ache down through his bones.

It was always like this, and had been for many more years than he could count. Every month he would be stuffed with reiatsu, forced to trigger an episode, and rode it out until his body couldn’t handle it anymore. Hoki figured early that he had a sort of internal clock that would reset after around 35 to 40 days. For the first 30 days he was fairly unlikely to lose control unless he was under extreme duress, and for the last 10 days the likelihood would steadily increase until, like a pressured piston, his body would eventually have to release itself.

With the combined numbers and statistics from both Divisions 4 and 12, and his and the Captain’s trial and error, he’d figured out the safest route was to cause an episode every 25 to 30 days, depending on schedules. Each time it sapped his body of nearly every drip of spirit energy he had, and left him healing for anywhere from 30 minutes to 4 days. Hoki idly tensed various muscles as he was carried towards the hatch in the ceiling, testing the reaction he received from each one. He felt like this one would be around a day for a full recovery.

Deciding against simply leaping straight through, the Captain opted to use shunpo to reach the hatch to keep the jostling of his cargo to a minimum. If Hoki felt any shake of pain, he didn’t show it, instead focusing on his breathing with his head rested back in the divet of Kenpachi’s shoulder.

“Are you sure I didn’t hurt him?” Hoki spoke, his voice quiet but serious. He couldn’t bear the thought of switching off and injuring someone, preferring all of his fights to be of the conscious sort. He knew the Captain would never let Hoki hurt him, and that helped put his mind at ease during sessions, but even after the times when it was just the two of them he still couldn’t help but feel guilty. One would have thought that after twenty or so years, he would have shaken it by now.

“You wore him out good. Think you hurt his pride more than anything.” Hoki mustered a great amount of strength to bat his hand against Kenpachi’s chest but it got the message across, “He’s fine, not a scratch on him. I had to step in when you tried to pull that overhead shit on him, though.”

The blond smothered his face into the Captain’s uniform in embarrassment. Similar to how no-one likes to hear what they did while they were drunk, Hoki hated being told how he fought when he was unconscious. He knew it was showy, he didn’t need someone else to tell him.

He’d never seen it, and always refused to be recorded. Something about the idea of seeing himself in that state made his skin crawl; Hoki agreed with himself long ago that he’d much prefer to separate himself from that person and keep the distance long.

“I feel like shit.” he muttered, suddenly feeling even worse when he caught sight of the dirt caked into his palms and under his nails.

“Look like shit, too.” Kenpachi replied.

“You really know how to make me feel better, don’t you?” Hoki retorted, but revelled in the mundane chatter. He knew if he was back in the Seireitei operating as a normal part of the division there would never be any opportunity for things like idle banter between the two of them.

—-

Hoki glanced to his tattering sandals as he paced down the hallway, making a mental note to pick up a new pair from the store room when he was finished with his review. Fortunately for him, there was never any issue finding his size amongst the ever-withering supply of uniforms available to the 11th Division. Maybe being small _was_ a blessing, as disguised as it may be.

“Captain?” He called through the door, rapping his knuckles against it, “You wanted to see me?” Formality was necessary when potentially within earshot of others, and Hoki hoped that there wouldn’t be anyone else in the room to have to keep it up around. He slipped through the door and closed it behind him when called in, relieved to only find Kenpachi and Yachiru inside.

The Captain sat lounged stiffly behind the desk, a rare sight in itself, with the Lieutenant perched on the corner. There was no pleasant atmosphere as Hoki approached and it immediately put him on edge, even more so when he caught sight of Yachiru’s reddened and sticky-looking face.

Since the beginning of his and Kenpachi’s deeper involvement, Hoki had taken extra time to connect with Yachiru on a level that didn’t consist of rankings or titles. Her being the Captain’s daughter in every way but by blood meant two things for Hoki: One being that her keen intuition seemed to immediately make her aware of their different kind of relationship, and the other being that it was her approval that Hoki had to make the most effort with. Now, after years of being attentive and caring towards anything she had to say, or even taking inopportune times to play whatever games she could come up with, the two of them were bonded as deeply as a brother and sister would be.

Seeing her rubbing at her wet eyes instantly made the blond edgier, and he had to stop himself from rushing to her side. However he was kept in his place by Kenpachi’s serious gaze.

“What’s happened?” Hoki said as calmly as he could, feeling the unease of the situation settle deep in his stomach. The Captain motioned to the chair sitting across from the desk, and Hoki reluctantly lowered himself into it. Yachiru seemed to be trying in vain to push fat tears back into her eyes, sniffing and hiccuping loudly as she did so. The sleeves of her uniform were soaked, a telling sign that she must have been crying for a while now.

“Yachiru.” Kenpachi chided, quiet but firm. She found a dry portion of her shihakusho to rub her face with and sucked in the last of her hiccups, nodding that she was just about done. The room quickly filled with a thick, heavy silence. Hoki felt an itch creeping up his spine.

No-one spoke for a time. Hoki chewed the inside of his cheek as he searched his Captain’s face for an answer, but as usual he was virtually unreadable. Over the years, the fourth seat had learned his tells, however small, and knew that he also seemed to be searching for an answer that wouldn’t come.

Their eyes met over the desk again, and still nothing was said. Instead, Kenpachi glanced down to the desk and Hoki followed his gaze.

Papers littered the desk in their trademark fashion, a few balled up in anger and threatening to roll over the lacquered edge. Amongst the mayhem lay one sheet affixed perfectly in the middle, appearing out of place. Neatly in the corner, almost still damp from young age, was the ‘46’ seal belonging to the central court.

Hoki averted his eyes quickly, understanding that any papers issued directly from Central 46 were meant for Captains’ eyes only, but could only swallow nervously when the paper was slid over to him. He hesitated in reaching for it, not sure if he even wanted to know what was written on it. Eventually he pulled it into his lap and read.

He read it once in its entirety, and then again for confirmation. He read it over and over and over until the kanji bled together, every line twisting around the page until it made him dizzy and sick. Hoki wished all at once that he’d never learned to read at all.

“I’m being discharged?” His voice was almost a whisper, and it was all he could manage as his throat suddenly became dry and unwilling. He didn’t really know what he wanted to hear. Maybe a ‘no’ would have been a good start, but once Central 46 had made their decision there was little to no chance of an appeal.

The letter made it abundantly and repeatedly clear that it was because of his condition, and that he’d more or less been branded a threat to the Seireitei and the people within. Hoki truly had thought he’d come so far since leaving the academy. He meditated diligently and frequently, and kept up with his conditioning sessions down to the minute they were performed each month. It was these very measures that allowed him to climb the ranks within the 11th Divison, but now he was a risk the central court was unwilling to take. Hoki suspected that the proper wording was actually something like ‘unwilling to deal with’ but there wasn’t anyone in the room who didn’t already know that.

Kenpachi let out a long, rolling sigh. It had been an ordeal in itself not to shred the letter when he’d first received it, but now he wished for nothing more than to see it in a thousand pieces. There was no doubt that there had been a target on Hoki’s back ever since his incident that resulted in a dead squadmate, and that pointed glare hadn’t diminished even slightly when they managed to plead for self-defence at the trial. It might have bought time, but eventually they both knew that something like this was bound to happen.

“It’s out of my hands.” he spoke after a while, “They’re shoving you in a box and burying it, like the rest of their fuckin’ problems.” There was no hiding the contempt in his voice that he held for Central 46. The Captain was never keen on taking his orders from a herd of bureaucrats who likely couldn’t find their own feet with both hands. To think that they could fairly judge any warrior was laughable.

Hoki sat still and quiet, looking down as his hands as he wrung them in his lap. One would have expected his mind to be racing, filling with endless questions and last resort strategies to get them to change their minds, but it wasn’t. He knew that their word was the be all, end all. All he could do was move forward.

The back of his throat ached as he tried desperately not to let the tears in his eyes fall, but when Yachiru appeared at his leg with her own face freshly wet again, he couldn’t hold it back any longer.

“Moki…” she whined, face curling as she tugged on his hakama, “You don’t have to go!”

The blond felt his chest tighten unbearably as he smiled down at her, bringing her up onto his lap and brushing the wet hair out of her face. Hoki always cried when Yachiru cried, he couldn’t help it.

“I do have to go.” he said to her sweetly, “You can still come and visit! I won’t be far!” Yachiru just clung to his shihakusho, tugging hard as if to keep him planted to the spot.

“But you won’t be here!”

He couldn’t lie to her, and he knew he didn’t have to either. Yachiru was more intuitive than she liked to let on, and she knew firsthand the power the central court held from watching Kenpachi tussle with them time and time again.

“I know,” Hoki said quietly to her, feeling his brave smile faltering, “but I won’t be far.” Yachiru bawled into him, and it was hard for Hoki not to do the same as he hugged her tight.

In his head, he’d already prepared himself for an inevitable uprooting a while ago, at least to a different squad where he wouldn’t be much of a risk to anyone. Unless they were a high ranking officer, there was a slim to none chance that Hoki would ever be able to appeal for the development of medication for his condition. It just wasn’t worth the time, money or effort for one disposable shinigami. He knew he was already on thin ice with his hormone treatments, and only just managed to have those approved when he pleaded for the costs to come out of his own pay. It was unfair, but Hoki was one voice in the wind, and had accepted this fact when he first joined Squad 11.

Despite all of this, it still shattered his heart to have to go.

Hoki practically wrapped himself around Yachiru, clinging to her as tightly as she clung to him. Neither one moved until they were both lifted in tandem and sat back into the Captain’s lap. Kenpachi had never been and would never be an emotive man, and Hoki knew this, but the silent press of his head against the blond’s would always be more than enough.

The letter had stated that he had until the new day broke to gather whatever belongings he had and meet with a guide at the senkaimon. From there, he would be taken into the world of the living and his new duties, and perhaps his new life, would be outlined. It had never overtly stated that he was being officially discharged from his squad, but the secrecy littered within the text combined with the need to relocate entirely told Hoki all he needed to know- his personnel file would be placed within a dark corner of the archives and it would be like he never existed.

Telling Ikkaku and Yumichika was just as hard as reading the letter for the first time. He’d spent years cultivating a strong camraderie with them and considered them as brothers, so for Hoki to have to stand there and tell them he had twelve hours to leave without a trace was almost impossible.

Ikkaku seethed over the injustice of it all while Yumichika gathered him into a tight squeeze and near enough made him cry again. Neither of them had ever expected things to get this far but they too knew of the paper trail that followed Hoki wherever he went.

The three of them, with the Captain’s permission, spent the majority of the day wandering around the Seireitei with no particular destination in mind, just how Hoki wished it could always be. They talked about nonsense, abandoning shop talk for stupid jokes and the occasional snide comment. No-one spoke of old times or past memories because they had already decided it wouldn’t be the last time they’d see each other.

As night began to fall, Hoki retreated to his quarters to gather his things. In terms of belongings, his room was scarcely filled, containing not much of anything save for a single birdsnest fern in a wicker pot he’d named Midoriyama. He’d had bought it to hang from the end of his bunk in the barracks so he could remember which bed was his, and somehow, after being sliced, trampled and watered with sake for a week in his absence, it had survived and even thrived, amazingly. It’s leaves held a lot of late night thoughts that Hoki would ramble about when he was alone, and he hoped that the air in the world of the living wouldn’t be the ironic twist that killed it.

When the sun had set and the moon was rising, Hoki waited for the noise from the barracks to dim and laid his sword across his lap, slipping into his inner world as he did so often. If Jatai thought that Hoki used him as his personal therapist, he would never say, and seemed content with the attention. They spoke often, Hoki made sure, about anything and everything; Now he laid on his back in the sandy flats, dusting his fingers through the fine particles and letting them slip through.

“What d’you think the world of the living’s like? What if it’s super humid? I can’t stand it when the air’s sticky.” Hoki rambled aimlessly, twisting his head around to look at Jatai. He sat next to Hoki, a writhing mass of dusty bandages that came together in the shape of a tall, cross-legged man with his arms folded across a broad chest. At the shoulders the bandages arched into a hood shape, leaving a black hole set with a single dot of light for an eye. His voice was distant and close all at once, deep and dulcet and ever soothing to Hoki.

“None are immune to change. You will adapt as you always have.” The zanpakuto spoke, his eye brightening and dulling periodically.

“Cryptic, as always.” Hoki huffed, and turned his head back to the sky. It was thick with clouds that threatened him with a torrential downpour, and when he looked up at them he was reminded of the simmering ache that had made its home in his chest; it would likely be there for a while, Hoki recognised. He picked up another handful of sand and let it trickle through his fist, letting a practised breath out with it. It wasn’t fair to make Jatai endure this moody weather so the least he could do was try to clear it up a little.

“You have a visitor.” the shroud said, rising to his feet. Hoki sat up and looked around dumbly as if someone other than the two of them would be seen on the distorted horizon. “Not here.” Jatai spoke with just a hint of an exasperated sigh in his voice, the bright of his eye dimming completely as he turned away, the weavings of his bandages becoming looser and looser until the breeze carried them away one by one. Hoki watched him dissipate, then willed himself back into the present. He didn’t need to open his eyes to know who’s tattered haori was keeping him warm in the chill coming through the open window- he opened them anyway, for sight purposes. Eyes were useful like that.

Kenpachi had let himself in when knocking became fruitless. There was a running tally for how many times he would hit his head on the criminally small doorframe so he’d taken extra care to duck under, more so to keep any noise to a minimum. Inside he’d found Hoki in a deep meditation and, while he had a record of impatiently pulling him out of it, he figured he might have needed the extra time. Instead the Captain shed his haori to wrap around him, and took a seated spot a few feet in front of the blond as he meditated. He was content to sit and wait, a luxury that only extended to a very select few.

Both opened their eyes almost simultaneously, Kenpachi having reclined onto a propped up hand and half fallen asleep.

“Sorry, I didn’t think I’d have company.” Hoki said quietly, pressing his fists into his back and arching in a stretch, releasing the stale tension somewhat loudly from his joints. His hands met with the fabric of the haori that drowned him, its texture not unlike the rough material of the common shihakusho, and he tugged it further around his body. It carried a faint, earthy aroma which Hoki happily let mull around in his senses.

“Feelin’ any better?” Kenpachi said quietly. His was the kind of voice that would shake the rice paper in the doors at certain decibels, something very handy when one was in a commanding position. Not so much when you were trying to have a private conversation in the dead of night.

“Not really.” Hoki said equally as quietly, pulling his knees up to his chest and hugging them tight to rest his chin on top, “It’s stupid, I know, but it’s just a lot to take in at once. We shouldn’t get attached to our surroundings. I mean, people get transferred from squad to squad all the time, and I’m no exception, so why am I so surprised? It’s not like I’m immune to the way things are in the Seireitei.”

“Hoki.”

“Maybe I’m just being a baby about it. Maybe it won’t be that bad. It just feels… unfair, y’know? Like my whole life is just being uprooted and put somewhere else just for someone’s convenience. I don’t know, you’re a Captain so maybe you see it different to the way I do. I just thought that the central court were supposed to care about every shinigami, but maybe that’s just what I was taught in the academy. Suppose I should’ve expected-”

“ _Hoki.”_ Any other day Kenpachi would let him ramble on, but like every other time he got himself worked up and started to spit out whatever flew through his mind, it got him nowhere.

The blond was ejected out of his thoughts. It wasn’t very often that he found himself ruffled to the point of uncontrollable speech, but something brewed just beneath the surface of his skin that spun his head in an unfamiliar windstorm.

“Oh. Sorry.” Hoki said, folding his arms on top of his knees and letting his head rest on them, “It’s just… weird, is all.”

“It _is_ fuckin’ weird.” Kenpachi spoke with his own poorly masked opinions laced between his words, “Central 46 are always stickin’ their fuckin’ nose where it doesn’t belong. As long as their numbers look nice n’ pretty on paper they don’t give a shit about any stains they wipe off along the way. The discipline of a squad and it’s members falls to the Captain and, as far as I’m concerned, your record’s cleaner than most idiots in here.”

Hoki soaked his words in, the same thoughts having surfed through his mind over and over all day, albeit less colourfully put.

“No real reason in whining about it now, I suppose.” The fourth seat sighed, “I’m just…” He searched his mind, his heart and his gut for the source of the flames crawling beneath his skin and chalked it all up. When he found it, the blond laughed unbelievingly to himself.

“…I’m pissed off.”

The Captain barked out a laugh of his own and began to rise to his feet.

“That’s all I needed to hear. Come on.” Hoki knew immediately what he was suggesting, and laughed again. It felt good to laugh, a much needed release from the depression that seemed as if it had lasted a lifetime already.

“Didn’t you come here to, I don’t know, make me feel better? Maybe offer some wise words of encouragement?”

“Eh, not really.” Kenpachi said, an eager hand thumbing the end of his sword, “We can sit here and sulk, if you want.”

“Okay, point made.”

Hoki should have expected it, really. The art of providing comfort manifested itself differently within each person. Perhaps if it had been Yumichika who had knocked on his door, the fourth seat would have had his hair braided five thousand times over by now, each iteration of intricate plaiting bringing about a new and distracting conversation topic.

Instead, Hoki now found himself tying his hair into a tight bun and collecting his sword, along with a few other bits including a quick bandage kit. They both knew the destination, having spent countless nights there locked in combat- a spot in the forests behind Sogyoku Hill. It laid a short hike off of the beaten path leading into the Seireitei, well marked as a small clearing of trodden grass, but still deep enough into the woods to not be seen in the day. The passing patrols would often sense the spiritual pressure of the 11th Captain as they sparred and assume he was simply out searching for a challenge and pass right by. Hoki’s constant practice in keeping his own aura close and tight made sure he was never noticed, and if that wasn’t enough, he was also somewhat skilled in diving into a nearby bush or tree.

There was a saying within the Gotei 13- The downfall of the Court Guard will never come from war or crime, but rumours and whispers- and it was a saying that a large percentage of shinigami lived their lives by. Your personal life is yours and yours exclusively, and letting something less than savoury slip around certain squadmates was as good as signing and stamping your own dismissal form.

Of course, as with most societal norms within the Seireitei, this rarely ever touched the Captains. Hoki only knew this from how often he once had to remind Kenpachi to treat him as any other subordinate, not that he would have received any special treatment anyway. If anything, he would have been worked harder, and that would have been the red flag that began the rumours. Anyone who claimed that Squad 11 didn’t care for idle whispers and gossip just because most of them were ‘rough-housing barbarians’ was a liar, and most definitely were not a part of the division themselves. Loyalty and respect for the Captain ran deep within their numbers but if his secret was made public, just like a new step-parent, that respect would likely not extend to the fourth seat any longer.

With all of these factors considered, the path to their secluded spot had to be taken in the shadows. Hoki knew the patrols well enough by now, and the two of them stuck close to the outer wall and followed it around until Sogyoku Hill blocked their path. From there, it was a matter of passing over the wall and heading into the thicket. While longer and trickier than the standard route, which couldn’t be taken due to obvious reasons, both Hoki and Kenpachi could find their ways there with their eyes closed at this point.

Upon stepping foot over the brambles and into the clearing, Hoki immediately felt the familiar serenity wash over him, made bittersweet by the fact that it may have been the last time he would see this place. He took it in for a moment- the midnight dew on the mossy rocks, the slow amblings of the fireflies in the quiet air, even the shape of the clearing that had been carved out by their sandals.

It would have even been romantic almost, if not for the whizz of the sword tip that cut through the air mere inches from his ear. Where it not for the familiar whip of spiritual pressure that preceded it, Hoki doubted he’d have managed to skid away in time. It was a knee-jerk reaction to bring a hand to the side of his face, and now Hoki was thankful that he’d opted for a bun instead of a ponytail and risk losing an inch or two.

“You’re thinkin’ too much again.” Kenpachi said, shouldering the blunt end of his sword, “Start talking or I’ll take it as an invitation to start swinging.” Hoki laughed at the evident lack of aggression in his words. They both knew what they were here for, and knew that it didn’t involve most higher brain functions- only the five senses lead by a fighting instinct.

“I thought sneak attacks were beneath you.” Hoki said pseudo-haughtily, pulling his own zanpakuto from its sheath, “Been saving that for little ol’ me?” He fluttered his lashes for the icing on the cake. Kenpachi chuckled and gestured to Hoki with his free hand.

“What can I say? You deserved it.”

Hoki snapped Jatai in two and invoked his shikai, flexing his fingers beneath the tight wrappings and breathing out slowly, letting out all of his thoughts and emotions with it. There was simply no room for either in a fight. The first teachings within the 11th taught one to be able to fight with their body alone, and while the squad itself attracted mostly those who tended not to lean towards the thinking side anyway, most who joined didn’t realise how much of their movements relied on heavy pre-planning.

Now, as Hoki and Kenpachi sparred in the quiet clearing, both lended themselves to the elements. The change in the direction of the breeze as the Captain’s blade carved it apart, the twitching of loose dirt underfoot as Hoki changed his direction mid-step, even the distorted light cast by the moon as both their auras betrayed their movements. As much as Hoki would have loved to master the art of complete spirit suppression, as was taught within the Omnitsukido, an opposing love of battle would always prevail.

They fought for who knows how long, neither one bothering to stop and check the time. It was only when the sky began to brighten ever so slightly did they stop to bask in the comedown. It frustrated Hoki to no end that he’d never be able to give Kenpachi an equal fight, but he settled to be able to give him a run for his money with his speed, using it to almost taunt his Captain into trying to hit him.

That being said, Hoki was also the one having to stand leaning forward, hands on his knees as he caught his breath. When they first began to claim this patch of the woods as their own with regular sparring, the blond used to get embarrassed at his lack of stamina, often having to have to tap out because he couldn’t stop the wobbling in his legs any longer. Now that he’d seen Kenpachi fight time and time again, he accepted the fact that his own stamina was fine, if not better than most, and that the Captain’s was simply impossibly high.

Just before the sun rays could break past the horizon, they made the short hike to the nearby cliff that overlooked the back of the 13th squad training ground. A solitary, twisted and gnarled tree sat near the edge, separated from the rest of the thicket. It’s branches seemed to dart out in whatever direction it deemed suitable, the yellowing leaves forming imperfect fractals wherever they wished to grow.

They had all but claimed this spot too, often finding themselves sat at the tree’s base when Hoki grew too tired to fight anymore, and tonight was no different. The blond’s hair twisted over Kenpachi’s lap as he rested his head on his leg, eyes transfixed on the swaying of the branches above them.

When not submerged in a comfortable silence, they simply talked of whatever came to mind. Never of what was to come in the next few hours, but benign things, things that, at least comparatively, didn’t matter. They shared a pipe of Hoki’s best tobacco that he saved for special occasions, although he wished that these weren’t the circumstances it was used for. All the same, it was smokey and sweet, and a welcome taste in the back of his throat.

Whether he knew it or not, in the years they had been together, Kenpachi had become something of an anchor point for Hoki. A maypole around which he knew, no matter how far he danced from the centre, the ribbon that tied them together would always lead him back to him. Hoki looked up at him then, watching him take a drag from the pipe, and knew that the Captain would always be exactly what he needed the most- a fixed point; A constant in the life of someone who often found himself surrounded by chaos and uncertainty. He doubted he’d ever find a suitable way to repay him for the stability he lended to his life, but if ever he did? Hoki would devote that life entirely to it without hesitation.

Kenpachi jerked his leg then, jostling Hoki’s head, and didn’t need to look down as he mumbled something about the staring freaking him out around a breath of smoke. Hoki just smiled and closed his eyes, thankful that the worst of his worries had boiled down to whether or not he’d have to make awkward small talk with his guide in a few hours.


End file.
